Scars
by Edele Lane
Summary: COMPLETE. Chapter 39 Up. Culmination… Post 'The Telling.' Surprises abound as Sydney deals with life after finding out she has lost two years. All the main players are here, and the Rambaldi mystery will definitely progress… SS, some SW and SV
1. Questions

**Title:** Scars  
**Author:** Edele Lane  
**E-mail:** Edyn04@aol.com  
**Rating:** PG-13/R (later)  
**Disclaimer:** Everything "Alias"-related does not belong to me. It belongs to J.J. Abrams and probably 900 other people associated with him.  
**Archive:** Cover Me; anywhere else, e-mail me first.  
**Feedback:** Please;x  
**Spoilers:** Everything up to and including "Second Double"/"The Telling"  
**Summary:** Takes place right before Sydney talks to Vaughn in "The Telling." This means that the conversation that took place is in this story, but trust me, it's the only rehash of the script I'll do. Anyway, Sydney has to deal with the things she learns from Vaughn and adjust to her new life. Sounds boring right now, but, I have quite a bit in store. Just a note, I'm assuming that everything that happened in the last couple of minutes in the show can be taken at face value, mainly because I'll be really pissed if ol' JJ makes that whole damn thing a dream.  
**Dedication:** This is for Ash who reads each part before it is posted here and is undoubtedly my best (and favorite) critic. This is also for Dana because we both live for fanfiction and I swear I get ideas for new fics constantly while we're discussing fics we've written previously. Check out her stuff (her penname is Dana Riker).  


**_Scars_  
  
One  
  
Questions  
  
  
  
**

Sydney Bristow sat on a small cot waiting for her contact—whomever that was going to be—to arrive. She looked down at herself, at her clothes—bland, shapeless pants and a shirt that hung loose on her frame. She sighed. When she had first awakened, she had been wearing an oversized sweater and brown jeans. Upon arriving in the room in the safehouse to which she had been led, she almost immediately sought out a mirror, as if she didn't believe her own eyes and wanted to have her appearance reflected in a piece of glass that she could be sure wasn't deceiving her.  
  
  
She had winced at how worn out she looked. Her eyes were dark, almost empty-looking, her skin was decidedly pale, and there were small wrinkles at the corners of her mouth. She had run a hand cautiously through her tangled tresses and found herself suddenly creeped out. She was reminded of the mission in a Romanian mental institution that she had accomplished at least two years ago. She swallowed nervously, remembering only selected parts of that mission, not wanting to inflict more stress on herself. But the simple fact remained—her disheveled appearance then rivaled the one now in a way that sent a chill through her, causing her shoulders to involuntarily shake.  
  
  
So now, a short while later, she cast a glance at the door, willing someone to walk through it, to explain to her how in the hell she had ended up in Hong Kong when her last memory was falling unconscious due to fatigue from her fight with Francie's double, A.G. Doren.  
  
  
Her blood went cold then. She hadn't had much time to think about what had happened to the real Francie because before she knew it, she had been fighting for her life in what she would consider to be the most brutal battle she had ever faced.  
  
  
Sydney found herself shivering uncontrollably and she situated herself on the cot with her back against the wall the cot was pushed against and her legs drawn to her chest. Her lip quivering, Sydney wrapped her arms around her knees and rocked back and forth, silently.  
  
  
_What *had* happened to Francie?_ she wondered, feeling another chill race through her body. Deep down, she already knew. Francie had been killed. Why else double someone then keep the original one alive? What purpose did it serve?  
  
  
She felt like crying. Her best friend was clearly dead and Sydney had absolutely no answers as to *why* it had happened or who had caused it. Her thoughts ran rampant until Sydney finally realized that her body was convulsing in sobs but that tears weren't escaping her eyes. She was too worn out to shed any tears. She calmed herself down after a minute, another wave of questions sweeping over her.  
  
  
_What had happened to Will?_ she thought, trying to maybe conjure up something positive. She had briefly spied him in the bathtub of her apartment in the middle of her fight with Doren. She couldn't tell if he was dead of just seriously injured and had lapsed into unconsciousness.  
  
  
Sydney found herself wrapping her arms tighter around her knees and rocking back and forth again, the motion oddly comforting. She tried to keep her outlook for Will hopeful—she couldn't stand to lose anyone else, especially someone who cared about her and had risked himself and his career in ways that opened too many doors for Sydney to count. The most important one, though, was that he had inadvertently led her to her mother. His snooping into SD-6, his contact that was feeding him information, his kidnapping Those had all led to Khasinau, to the Circumference, to Irina.  
  
  
The realization was almost too much for Sydney to take. She had never truly thought about it before, how that all had tied in together. If Will had never wanted to provide her with the closure he had no idea that she had had already, she would have probably never gotten even remotely close to her mother or even to Khasinau.  
  
  
How different would her life have been? Would it have been easier? Harder? Would SD-6 have been taken down already? Would she have been able to have a relationship with Vaughn that quickly?  
  
  
Sydney mentally kicked herself for being so selfish with her last thought. Sure, she cared about Vaughn a great deal; perhaps she loved him, too. But it wasn't the time to start thinking about him when she could have quite possibly lost one of the most important people in her life. But then, there was the simple possibility that Vaughn and her father were the only people she had left. She was basically certain that Francie was dead and it was hard for her to think that Will might have possibly have survived without receiving a chiding from a voice in her head that made her cringe and shudder.  
  
  
Finally, she lay back on the cot, her head on a small and decidedly uncomfortable pillow and her body wrapped in a thin blanket that Sydney could swear only made her feel colder than she already felt. She stared at her surroundings as she lay on her side, curled up into a tight ball.  
  
  
The room seemed entirely too red.  
  
  
This fact, of course, only made Sydney think of blood. She closed her eyes in an exasperated attempt to force herself to get some sleep. She needed to be rested and be thinking in a coherent manner when whoever was supposed to meet with her finally showed up.  
  
  
So, without another thought, she slipped a hand under the pillow, using it to cradle her head somewhat, then slipped her other hand underneath her cheek, creating even more support for her head and drifted off to sleep.  
  
  
  
  
She woke up a while later—she wasn't sure how long it had been and, quite frankly, she didn't give a damn. She sat up, rubbing her eyes and then her throbbing temples, sighing heavily. Except for the mother of a headache she had, she felt a bit better. Physically better, of course, not mentally. Mentally, she was still reeling, her mind once again awash with questions that had no answers.  
  
  
Sydney gingerly pulled the blanket back and moved so that she was sitting on the edge of the bed, her feet on the floor. Sydney thought back to the fight with Doren and briefly wondered why she wasn't feeling any pain from all of the blows she had taken in that battle. She felt briefly confused about why she didn't check to see what injuries she had earlier, when she had arrived at the safehouse. She attributed her scattered priorities and thoughts to the fact that she felt extremely disoriented and confused.  
  
  
How *had* she ended up in Hong Kong, anyway?  
  
  
Sighing a little, Sydney rolled up the sleeves on the baggy shirt and examined her arms and then her hands. She leaned over and rolled up the pants a bit to see if her legs had taken any damage, then rolled the pants and the sleeves back down. She reached a hand behind her head where she had put her hair into a braid sometime between looking in the mirror and retreating to the cot and felt for any bumps or cuts from when she had been thrown against the full-length mirror in her bedroom.  
  
  
To her surprise, there weren't any, and that confused her even more. _Why the hell don't I seem to have any proof that I was in a fight that nearly killed me?_ she thought angrily. Since she hadn't checked her torso, she lifted her shirt and examined her abdomen.  
  
  
A scar—and a rather large one at that—was clearly visible just to the right of her navel. She traced the scar, which appeared to be about three inches in length, and thought about the fight again. She remembered being knocked around a great deal, but never enough to have merited such a colossal scar on her stomach.  
  
  
She would have pondered the abnormality a bit more if she hadn't heard the door creak open and her head hadn't snapped up immediately to see who was entering the room.  
  
  
It was Vaughn.  
  
  
She emitted something of a relieved gasp and leapt up from the bed to embrace him. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, and slid a hand into his hair, bringing his head closer to her. As she held him, she couldn't help but wonder about how he had looked when he first entered the room. His expression seemed hesitant—afraid, almost—and she wondered why. But instead of asking, she tried to focus on the fact that he was here. Her boyfriend was here. The man she cared about was here.  
  
  
She tried to swallow her tears but failed, and they stung her eyes and rained onto her cheeks. She held him to her for a few seconds more before pulling back and blurting out, "They; doubled Francie."  
  
  
Calmly, with almost a hint of irritation to his voice, Vaughn replied, "I; know."  
  
  
Still close to him, her hands on his shoulders, his face, her eyes searching his, she asked the questions that had been plaguing her since she arrived at the safehouse. She thought she knew the answers, but she needed to ask, needed to get it out in the open so it won't be gnawing away at her insistently. "What; happened to Will, to Francie? Are they dead?" She tried to sound nonchalant, she didn't want to break down more than she already had, but inside she felt as if she was being ripped apart.  
  
  
"Will;'s okay," Vaughn said, avoiding Sydney's eyes for a reason Sydney couldn't figure out.  
  
  
His response left her surprised, shocked, even. _How the hell did Will survive? But thank god he's okay,_ Sydney thought with relief,_ thankgodthankgodthankgod._ She decided to ask, though, exactly how it was possible. "What;? How?"  
  
  
He was silent for a moment, clearly trying to figure out a way to facilitate his explanations. "You;—" he began, still looking down and still appearing to be hesitant around Sydney, "Sit; down."  
  
  
They both sat down, Sydney on the cot and Vaughn in a chair. Sydney stared at Vaughn with imploring, tear-filled eyes, trying to determine why he was acting to strangely and what exactly was going on. Vaughn stared back at her, as if he were looking at a stranger and not the woman he loved. He seemed to be trying to figure out for himself exactly what was going on, which made Sydney feel even more scared than she already had been.  
  
  
She spoke, her voice foreign and meek to her ears, making her feel small and helpless. "Vaughn;?"  
  
  
He looked at her a bit more and Sydney practically felt bare under his scrutiny. She wanted answers about Vaughn's behavior almost more than she wanted answers about how she had come to be in Hong Kong.  
  
  
"We; thought you were dead," he said finally.  
  
  
Sydney quirked her eyebrows, her mouth slightly agape. _What the hell? *Dead*?_ She remained silent, waiting for him to explain further.  
  
  
Vaughn remained his almost indifferent demeanor and said slowly, "They; asked me to come back to—to explain."  
  
  
The words were out of Sydney's mouth before she could stop them and form a question that wasn't laced with her frustration. "Come; back from what? What are you talking about?"  
  
  
In response, he rubbed his face with his hand in the way he always did when he was exasperated, upset, or annoyed. Something glistened in the low light of the room, catching Sydney's attention and making her narrow her eyes and blurt something out again. Her voice was rough with the sobs she had been harboring in the back of her throat. Why are you wearing that ring?" She looked up at him, her eyes full of anger, and was irritated to find him avoiding her gaze again, shaking his head in something that appeared to be disbelief. Sydney desperately avoided the urge to grab him and shake him, ask him what the hell was going on and what has happened, but she was able to refrain and instead sat with her back all too rigid, staring imploringly at her—now, apparently—ex-boyfriend.  
  
  
" he began, still shaking his head, his voice husky with emotion, "Since; that night You were missing."  
  
  
Sydney gave him another of her "what; the hell" looks, her eyes still narrowed and a single tear still lingering on her cheek. Her attention was grasped immediately when Vaughn took a shaky breath and spoke again.  
  
  
"You;'ve been missing for almost two years."  
  
  
Sydney swallowed hard, her lower lip quivering uncontrollably. She wanted to break down right then, because it was now official—  
  
  
She had never been more confused in her entire life.


	2. Answers

**Two  
  
Answers  
  
  
  
**

Sydney licked her lips as they had suddenly gone dry and spoke, her voice a whispering tremor, "Two; years?"  
  
  
Vaughn finally looked up and met Sydney's gaze, nodding solemnly and still keeping his indifferent façade in place. "Yes.;"  
  
  
Sydney was filled with a mixture of emotions. Should she leap up and grab Vaughn by the throat and force him to tell her just how she had lost two years when her last memory was a brutal fight? Or should she simply sit there, staring blankly at him, feeling as if she were two inches tall, and quietly question Vaughn until she got something of substance to come from his lips?  
  
  
She chose the latter, deciding to just try and obtain some answers in the calmest way she could. She couldn't afford to snap when Vaughn could actually be telling her the truth and might actually know what had happened.  
  
  
"Okay;," she said slowly, nodding and looking at Vaughn who had raised an eyebrow at her as if surprised to see her so calm. "I; want to start off simple," she said, almost wincing at the word "simple.;" What she was about to ask wasn't simple by any means. She sighed a little and pointed to the gold band on Vaughn's ring finger. "What; is that, exactly?"  
  
  
Vaughn looked down at his hand and used the thumb and forefinger of his right hand to twist the ring a bit as he gazed at it. After—"  
  
  
Sydney felt her fuse growing shorter by the second. "Vaughn;, don't you dare patronize me."  
  
  
Vaughn's head snapped up and he gazed into Sydney's eyes. An expression of hurt flashed across his face briefly and Sydney caught it, but decided not to comment on it. _Why the hell would he be feeling *hurt*?_ she thought, finding herself simultaneously upset and pissed off. _He just told me I've been missing for two years, then drops a bombshell about being married, and he's *hurt*?!_ Her emotions must have creeped into her shielded dark eyes and onto her tightly drawn mouth, because Vaughn's eyes had grown large as if he were afraid Sydney would jump up and strangle him right then and there.  
  
  
Sydney sighed heavily and put her head in her hands, rocking back and forth like she had done earlier. She knew Vaughn's immediate instinct would be to ask her if she was all right or to come and sit next to her and perhaps wrap a comforting arm around her shoulders. But, Vaughn did neither of those things, and Sydney felt more alone than she had ever felt in her life.  
  
  
She finally looked up at Vaughn, tears in her eyes, and saw that once again, he was looking away from her. But this time, though, she saw the pained expression on his face and she suddenly felt worse. _So he *wasn't* being indifferent,_ Sydney discerned, _he just doesn't know how to express his pain.  
  
_  
Vaughn absently twisted the ring between thumb and forefinger and Sydney's gaze drifted downwards and she watched the simple action. It reaffirmed that her relationship with Vaughn was evidently over, but for some reason, she didn't feel hollow by the realization. Instead, she felt more alive. She was on her own now, she didn't have anyone to worry about being around her all the time, concerned about her welfare. She knew she would have her father worried about her and apparently Will who had somehow survived, and that was fine. But, with all the pressure that had just toppled onto her shoulders, she wasn't sure she could handle a significant other—especially someone like Vaughn. Granted, she knew she cared about him a great deal and she had been eager to see where their relationship could go—_*if* it could have gone anywhere,_ she reminded herself. But, she figured that if nothing had changed in the two years in terms of her and Vaughn, they probably would have broken up anyway. The two-year gap in their memories would have no doubt weighed on both of them and probably made them grow apart.  
  
  
The fact that she cared for him—_not *loved,* necessarily,_ she told herself, feeling it was important for her to remember that the words had never been exchanged between them and that she couldn't really ascertain if she had ever felt that emotion towards him—still remained. She reached a hand towards him and grasped the fingers that were fiddling with the ring. Vaughn glanced at her then quickly looked down. Sydney squeezed his hand and lifted his chin up with the index finger of her free hand so that he could look into her eyes.  
  
  
"Vaughn;, I don't blame you for moving on. I mean, it *had* been two years. I don't remember those two years, but obviously you do, so I can't tell you how you should have lived your life or anything like that." She sighed a bit and continued, "I; also most certainly couldn't expect—after finding out that two years had passed—for things to be exactly the same. I know they would have changed. It's hitting me hard, obviously, but I'll get used to it." She grew self-conscious with Vaughn's jade eyes burning into her dark amber ones and looked down involuntarily.  
  
  
Vaughn used that opportunity to speak. "Sydney;, I really don't know what to say. The CIA still has no idea what happened to you after *that* night."  
  
  
"Wait;," Sydney interjected, "the; night you're talking about—you mean the night when I killed Francie's double, right?"  
  
  
Vaughn nodded slowly. "Yes.; I came by to pick you up, like I said I would—"  
  
  
"We; were supposed to go to Santa Barbara that night," Sydney put in, a chill running down her spine. They were going to have three days all to themselves, with no CIA to interfere. Needless to say, she had been looking forward to it.  
  
  
"Yeah;," Vaughn said after a moment, deliberately averting his gaze. "But;, as I said, I came by to pick you up. I found your apartment in shambles, Sydney. Things were broken all over the place and there was blood everywhere. I called Kendall and a team was dispatched. Meanwhile, I searched around, looking for you. I found Doren dead and covered in blood and I found Will in the bathtub, barely alive. When the team arrived, Will was taken to the hospital and Doren was taken to the coroner. I turned the apartment upside-down looking for you. I just couldn't accept the fact that you couldn't be there, you just *had* to be there." He paused, his voice cracking and his eyes beginning to form a few tears. Sydney kept her grip on his hand. "So;, obviously, I didn't find you. I had no idea what had happened to you, and—long story short—we had absolutely no idea where you had gone until we got your call."  
  
  
"Did; you have any leads at all?" Sydney asked.  
  
  
Vaughn shook his head. "Nothing; really concrete. Little things here and there, but none of them amounted into anything."  
  
  
"How; did—" Sydney shrugged a bit, feeling as though her question might come off as sounding vain, but she had to ask it anyway. "How; did everyone cope with me being gone?"  
  
  
"God;, Syd, everyone was devastated. Hardly anyone got any work done, none of us could believe that you weren't there. It took us a while before we were able to get our acts together."  
  
  
Sydney felt the corner of her mouth turn up in a small smile. "So; I inadvertently caused a great deal of undue stress?"  
  
  
Vaughn smiled as well and even allowed himself a small chuckle. "Yeah;, you really did."  
  
  
Sydney felt her small smile break out into a full-fledged grin. "Sorry; about that. Old habits die hard, right?"  
  
  
Vaughn laughed at that, and nodded his agreement. They looked into each other's eyes with their smiles still in place, feeling some sort of understanding between them. It seemed, though, that even if they weren't together, neither one was completely heartbroken and devastated by it. It was obvious that they both cared very much for one another, but perhaps that was all the more they were meant to feel.  
  
  
"Do; you maybe want to sleep a little before we take off?" Vaughn asked, standing up.  
  
  
"Yeah;, I think I do," Sydney said. "But; do you think I could get another blanket that doesn't feel like a thin t-shirt and a pillow that doesn't feel like a sheet that was just folded over a few times and expected to serve as some sort of cushion for a person's head?"  
  
  
Vaughn smiled again and nodded. "I;'ll see what I can scrounge up."  
  
  
"Okay.;"  
  
  
Vaughn turned to head out the door and go looking for blankets and pillows but Sydney's voice stopped him.  
  
  
"Vaughn;?"  
  
  
"Yeah;?"  
  
  
"Thank; you."  
  
  
"You;'re welcome."  
  
  
Sydney felt the need to clarify why she was thanking him. "Not; just for this, but—"  
  
  
"I; know, Syd," Vaughn told her, flashing her another smile. "Now; let me get some blankets and pillows."  
  
  
Sydney could only nod as she felt her eyes filling with tears and her throat clogging with sobs. Vaughn opened the door and walked out of the room. Sydney sat there, staring at the door, rooted to her place. She missed what she had with Vaughn—the comfortable conversations, the smiles here and there. But, she realized, she didn't miss being with him. She just missed what they had shared, even if it was only sex with random conversations filling up whatever extra time they had left over.  
  
  
She crawled under the blanket, intending to lay there until Vaughn came back. She took a deep breath and found that something in her throat burned a little. She remembered talking to the man who had led her into the small room and having to clear her throat because her voice was rough and felt as if she hadn't talked in a while. It could very be true that she hadn't spoken in a while before she had talked with the man, as she had no clue how long she had been lying there, worn out and weak. She remembered when she had tried to get up at first. She had fallen back down after barely using her arms to lift her upper body so she could at least get into a sitting position.  
  
  
Clearly, she hadn't been mobile for a while if she could barely bring herself to sit, let alone stand up. _Jesus Christ what the hell did they do to me? And who are the "they;"?_ Sydney thought with a shudder. She curled up into a tight ball, hooking the pathetic excuse for a blanket under her chin and burying her face in the pillow. She shut her eyes tightly and willed sleep to come.  
  
  
Before she could nod off, though, the door creaked open again and Vaughn came in with an armful of blankets and pillows. She started to sit up to acknowledge Vaughn's presence and Vaughn thought he had awakened her.  
  
  
"Oh;, did I wake you? I didn't think I was gone for that long—"  
  
  
"No;, no," Sydney said drowsily, sitting up as Vaughn walked over to the cot.  
  
  
"Okay;, well, let me just" Vaughn trailed off as he set the blankets and pillows down on the cot and took away the sad excuse for a pillow that had been lying there and replaced it with two rather fluffy pillows. He motioned for Sydney to lie back down as he unfolded a couple of blankets. Sydney insisted on helping, but Vaughn was stern in telling her she didn't need to, in that special way he had. So Sydney lay back down on her side as Vaughn spread the blankets over her body and tucked them under her chin.  
  
  
"Thanks;," Sydney said softly, gazing up into Vaughn's eyes. She really *did* miss the caring side of him.  
  
  
"Yeah;," Vaughn replied in the same soft voice that had come from Sydney's lips. "Now; get some rest, we'll be leaving soon to go back to Los Angeles."  
  
  
_Home,_ Sydney thought immediately, her body instantly radiating warmth. She wanted to be home, where it was safe and comforting. Here, she was only mildly comforted by Vaughn's caring nature, but she was still filled with a fear she couldn't explain, except that it stemmed from not having any real answers.  
  
  
Vaughn put a hand against Sydney's cheek and Sydney felt the coolness of the ring before Vaughn brushed a few strands of hair that had not quite made it into her braid away from her face. "I;'ll wake you up in a little while."  
  
  
"Okay.;"  
  
  
Vaughn gave Sydney a small smile and a nod and left her alone.


	3. Closure

**Three  
  
Closure  
  
  
  
**

Vaughn came to retrieve Sydney a short while later. He slowly and carefully pushed open the door, wincing when it creaked rather loudly. He had hoped he hadn't caused Sydney to wake up with the noisy door, but it didn't matter because Sydney was already sitting up in the cot. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and gave Vaughn a weak smile as he walked towards her to take a seat in the chair in which he had sat earlier.  
  
  
"How; did you sleep?" Vaughn asked.  
  
  
Sydney shrugged and shook her head. "I; slept soundly for maybe an hour, then I woke up and was just restless." Vaughn looked upset for her, so she quickly flashed him a smile. "I; think I'm just homesick."  
  
  
Vaughn returned the smile, relieved that the reason she hadn't slept wasn't because she had been having nightmares or something of the nature. "Well;, you're in luck, because there's a plane waiting for us to go back to Los Angeles."  
  
  
Sydney nodded solemnly and looked down at her ridiculously short fingernails. She deduced that this must have been part of whatever was done to her because even though she kept her nails at a reasonably short length, she had never kept them *this* short. She frowned at them and Vaughn peered at her then at her hands.  
  
  
"What;? What are you are looking at?" he asked, a bit confused.  
  
  
Sydney glanced up at him. "It;'s just that I've never kept my fingernails this short before, so I'm guessing this was part of whatever was done to me."  
  
  
"Oh.;"  
  
  
Sydney sighed and was about to hike up her shirt to show Vaughn the scar on her stomach when Vaughn all but freaked out.  
  
  
"Sydney;, uh—whatever you're doing—I don't think—"  
  
  
Sydney rolled her eyes. "Relax;, would you? I just wanted to show you something." She lifted her shirt up slightly, just enough so that a small portion of her midsection was exposed. Vaughn let out a sigh of relief and Sydney scoffed. "Even; so, it's not as if you haven't seen me naked before."  
  
  
"Yeah;, Syd, but things are different between us now," Vaughn said quietly.  
  
  
"I; know," Sydney said shortly. Vaughn was about to speak again but clamped his mouth shut at Sydney's abrupt response. So, Sydney decided to speak instead, as all thoughts of pondering the scar had seemingly escaped from her mind. She moved her legs so that she was sitting pretzel-style on the cot then leaned forward and rested an elbow on her thigh and used her fist to prop up her chin. She bit her lip a bit, pondering, then asked in as nonchalant a tone as she could, "So;—your wife—what's she like?"  
  
  
Vaughn was taken aback by Sydney's interest in his wife, but relented after a moment and began to tell her about the newest woman to have stolen his heart. "Her; name is Michelle."  
  
  
"How; ironic," Sydney said flatly, but with a bit of a wry smile that betrayed her tone of voice.  
  
  
"Yeah;," Vaughn said with a small chuckle, knowing that Sydney was obviously referring to the fact that the name "Michelle;" was the feminine form of "Michael.;"  
  
  
Sydney smiled at the fact that Vaughn seemed to be comfortable about telling her about his wife and stared at him as if silently asking him to continue.  
  
  
"I; guess I should start with how I met her," Vaughn started, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.  
  
  
"Yeah;, the beginning is always a good place to start," Sydney said, the words tumbling out her mouth.  
  
  
Vaughn was taken aback again, but quick shook the feeling off and began his story. "I; was on a reconnaissance mission in France, a few months after your disappearance. I wasn't even up to going, but I knew I couldn't wallow forever. I mean, if you *had* in fact, been—" he swallowed the lump in his throat, "dead;—I knew you wouldn't have wanted me to waste away into nothing because I was so torn up from losing you."  
  
  
Sydney nodded. _He's right,_ she thought, _I *wouldn't* want him to fixate on me forever. I'd want him to be happy.  
  
_  
"So;, I had completed the mission and I had some time to spare before I had to catch my flight. I decided to go into a local bar and I ended up drinking way more than I should have. I don't know what possessed me to do it, but whatever it was, it made me get completely and utterly shitfaced."  
  
  
Sydney put a hand over her mouth to suppress a laugh. Vaughn noticed and shot her a grin.  
  
  
"As; I was saying," Vaughn continued as Sydney suddenly couldn't hold back the peals of laughter that came from somewhere deep in her gut. "Hey;, let me finish," Vaughn said, succumbing to laughter as well.  
  
  
Seeing Vaughn begin to laugh only pushed Sydney farther over the edge. In a matter of seconds, she was doubled over, clutching her stomach as she continued to laugh. But soon, the moment went quickly from pleasure to pain as Sydney was holding her stomach as tears began to escape her eyes and a loud sob shook her body.  
  
  
"Syd;? Syd, are you—? Sydney—" Vaughn nearly leapt from his seat and huddled next to Sydney on the cot, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "What;'s wrong? What hurts?"  
  
  
"M-my;—my stomach," Sydney choked out, "It;'s in the same area as the scar." She lifted her shirt again and Vaughn took a closer look at the long diagonal scar on her abdomen. Vaughn ran a finger over the scar, tracing it, then pressed lightly with two fingers, trying to find exactly from what place the pain was stemming. "Aah;! Jesus!" Sydney cried out, doubling over again.  
  
  
"Here;?" Vaughn asked, ever so gently pressing on the spot that had caused Sydney to be in pain again.  
  
  
Sydney nodded slowly and reached up to drag a sleeve across her eyes as she sniffed audibly, her sinuses evidently clogged. Vaughn pondered the scar for a moment more, then ran his fingers over the area as if trying to make it better. For a moment, Sydney was almost expecting him to kiss the area where it hurt as a mother might do to make her child's booboo all better.  
  
  
If he had, Sydney wasn't sure how she would have reacted, especially since he was married now and, as he had said earlier, things were different between them.  
  
  
"Are; you all right?" Vaughn asked, drawing his hand away and looking into Sydney's dark amber eyes with his jade ones.  
  
  
"Yeah;, I'm fine," Sydney said simply, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over her for crying in front of Vaughn. _No, not for crying in front of Vaughn, just for crying when he was in the middle of a story,_ Sydney told herself, _especially a story about his new love._ She gave Vaughn a weak smile and grasped his hand briefly. "So; you were telling me about Michelle," she prompted him, wanting to forget about what had just taken place regarding her scar.  
  
  
"Right;," Vaughn said after a moment, reluctant to switch topics so quickly because he was still concerned about Sydney being in pain from whatever that scar had been. "Well;, I was getting ready to leave when she came in and plunked herself down on a barstool beside me. I looked at her, as best I could, since my vision was becoming blurry, and I noticed that she was quite attractive. Or, at least, since I couldn't actually see straight, the *alcohol* in my system thought she was attractive."  
  
  
Sydney smiled and fought the urge to laugh again, knowing she didn't want to be in pain again. Before Vaughn continued his tale, she took a moment to ponder what had been done to her to cause her to have this horrifyingly huge scar on her body. She sighed and mentally kicked herself for allowing her thoughts to wander while she was engaged in a conversation with Vaughn.  
  
  
"Anyway;, she introduced herself—in French, of course—and I introduced myself in French as well, but I used 'Michael' instead of 'Michel,' so that she would perhaps have a hint that I wasn't currently living in France. Well, she ended up slapping me for that," Vaughn said simply, an eyebrow raised in Sydney's direction as a smile crossed his lips.  
  
  
Sydney tried to stifle a giggle. "She; *slapped* you?" she asked in disbelief.  
  
  
Vaughn nodded. "Just; a bit of a pat on my cheek, but, I'm sure she thought it hurt more than it did."  
  
  
Sydney grinned. "So; what did you do?"  
  
  
"Well;, luckily, I'm one of those people who doesn't get violent when they get drunk. So, I just looked at her with my eyebrows raised and I actually had to fight down a laugh. I asked her why she had done it and she said, '_Vous êtes en France! Vous devriez employer votre nom français!_'"  
  
  
Sydney giggled. "'You're in France, you should use your French name.' That's funny."  
  
  
Vaughn nodded and chuckled. "When; she said that, I think I apologized and told her that I wanted to separate myself from the French world because I've been living in the U.S. for so long that I've just melded in seamlessly with the society. I said that I loved France and all, but I really consider myself—well—an American."  
  
  
"Of; course," Sydney said with a nod. "So; how the hell did you move past that?" she asked, laughing again, but being mindful of her stomach situation.  
  
  
"We; struck up a conversation and ended up talking for hours. During that time, I found out that she had moved to the U.S. a year before and that she felt a little homesick so she decided to visit France again. That, and our almost immediate chemistry, led us to taking the same plane home and commenced our relationship," Vaughn said with a nonchalant shrug, mainly for Sydney's benefit, so that she could see that he wasn't still hung up on her and hadn't immediately gotten together with someone else out of self-pity.  
  
  
"That;'s a really great story to tell the kids one day," Sydney said with a wink.  
  
  
Vaughn bit his lip a little. "*One day* is definitely right. I'm not ready to have rugrats right now," he said with a nervous laugh.  
  
  
Sydney grinned at him and playfully punched his shoulder. "You;'ll be a great dad," she said sincerely, looking him in the eye.  
  
  
Vaughn took a deep breath. "God;, I hope so."  
  
  
Sydney patted Vaughn's arm. "You; will be."  
  
  
Vaughn forced himself to nod and the two sat in silence for a while. Finally, Sydney wrapped her arms around Vaughn in a hug to thank him for everything he'd done for her in the past few hours. When she pulled back, she intended to place a kiss next to the side of Vaughn's mouth, a friendly gesture which quickly turned into something else when Vaughn caught her lips with his own. Sydney pulled back before it could go any farther and Vaughn was quick to explain.  
  
  
"I; just wanted one last kiss for us—something to symbolize what we had. I mean, our relationship ended abruptly and neither one of us had the chance to justify the end of it properly because of what happened. I just wanted one last reminder of our time together," Vaughn told her, staring into Sydney's eyes and causing a current of emotions to sweep through her.  
  
  
"Okay;," Sydney said with a nod.  
  
  
They both leaned in at the same time, their eyes drifting closed. Their lips met, tentatively at first, then the kiss went deeper as Sydney ran her hands through Vaughn's short hair and Vaughn cupped the base of Sydney's head, bringing her mouth closer to his. Vaughn used his tongue to gently part Sydney's lips and seek entrance to her mouth. His tongue slid over hers, massaging it, as Sydney worked to return the favor with her own tongue.  
  
  
They pulled back and gazed at each other, their eyelids heavy and their minds cloudy. Vaughn grasped Sydney's hand and looked down at it, smoothing his thumb over the soft skin. Sydney looked down and placed her free hand on top of Vaughn's and squeezed gently. They continued to look at their hands for a few minutes, both realizing that a new phase of their lives had begun and they wouldn't be able to look back on their pasts for any reason. The understanding of that came rather easily to both of them and would undoubtedly help them continue the good friendship that they had had before they ever became lovers.  
  
  
The thought of their renewed friendship was comforting to both of them but especially to Sydney. Having learned that two years of her life had been taken from her without her permission, she needed all the help she could get to be put on the right track.  
  
  
"We; should get going," Vaughn said softly.  
  
  
Sydney nodded and looked down, her shoulders shaking with a sudden chill. Vaughn noticed.  
  
  
"Are; you all right?"  
  
  
"Yeah;, I'm just—" Sydney shook her head and a tear escaped her eye when she looked back up at Vaughn. "I;'m just scared."  
  
  
"Why;, Syd? Everyone's going to be so happy to see you," Vaughn said cheerfully, squeezing her shoulder.  
  
  
"I; know, Vaughn, but it's just that I really don't know how I'm going to be able to fit back into that life, you know? I mean, I've been gone for two years—unbeknownst to me—but still, I haven't been there," Sydney said quietly, looking down again.  
  
  
Vaughn lifted her chin up. "Sydney;," he said in the firm, but not quite so firm tone of voice he had, "everything; is going to be fine. Everyone will welcome you back with open arms, and I swear, after a couple of days, things will be back to normal."  
  
  
"I; doubt everything will be 'back to normal,' but hopefully I'll be able to adjust as best I can," Sydney said with a shrug.  
  
  
"Of; course, Sydney," Vaughn told her, "besides;, I have faith in you."  
  
  
Sydney laughed a little. "I; know."  
  
  
"Let;'s get going," Vaughn said, standing up and helping Sydney off the cot and to the floor. "I;'m sorry I don't have a change of clothes for you," Vaughn said, almost sadly, looking at her sad excuse for clothes.  
  
  
"I;'m fine, Vaughn," Sydney insisted, "let;'s just get to the plane."  
  
  
Vaughn nodded and wrapped an arm around her shoulders as, when she took a step forward, she wobbled just a bit. Vaughn opened the door and let Sydney out first then placed his arm back around her shoulders and led her out of the safehouse and one step closer towards the place Sydney needed to be—  
  
  
Home.


	4. Revelations

**Four  
  
Revelations  
  
  
  
**

Soon after leaving the safehouse, Sydney and Vaughn boarded a jet supplied by the CIA and began the trip back to Los Angeles. Sydney sat on a love seat of sorts, stretched out on her back while Vaughn sat in a rather plush chair going over something that looked to be notes. Sydney raised an eyebrow as her curiosity got the better of her.  
  
  
"What;'s that?" she asked, unable to resist the urge to bite her bottom lip nervously as she awaited his response.  
  
  
Vaughn looked up, a bit dazed from being torn from his work. "Hm;?"  
  
  
"I; asked what you were looking at," Sydney said, a small smile crossing her lips.  
  
  
"Oh;," Vaughn blurted, casting a glance down at the papers on his lap, "I; was making some notes of how you were when I got to the safehouse."  
  
  
Sydney swallowed and asked, "What; do you mean 'how I was'?"  
  
  
Vaughn shook his head a bit. "No;, just, how you reacted, what questions you asked, your general appearance, any markings that seemed out of the ordinary—"  
  
  
"Vaughn;," Sydney began, hoping to silence him.  
  
  
"Oh;, that reminds me, I actually need you to check and see if there's anything else besides that scar on your stomach. Anything that you didn't have before. It needs to be reported to medical services when we get back."  
  
  
Any questions Sydney might have asked were left unspoken as her mind was suddenly filled with horrible thoughts. What if she *did* have other scars or markings that she hadn't noticed when she had changed clothes earlier? A visible shudder went through her body but Vaughn failed to notice.  
  
  
"All; right," Sydney said finally, "I;'ll just go into the bathroom and call out to you anything that seems out of the ordinary."  
  
  
Vaughn nodded and stood up to walk to a chair closer to the bathroom as Sydney went inside and closed the door softly. Sydney eyed herself in the mirror and reached behind her head to undo her braid. Once she had finished untwisting the strands, Sydney ran a hand through her hair and purposely rumpled it, letting it fall into her face. She sighed a little, then tucked a few strands of her chestnut locks behind her ear before lifting her shirt above her head and discarding it onto the small counter by the sink. She reached behind her back to undo the hooks on her bra, then laid it on top of her shirt. Her pants came next, along with her panties, and she eyed her appearance in the mirror again. She frowned and looked down at herself, seeing that she'd lost some of the definition in her muscles from not being able to work out. _But,_ she thought, _at least I don't look all that bad otherwise_ She ran her hands over the curves and contours of her body, as if she were getting reacquainted with it.  
  
  
Suddenly, she heard Vaughn sigh in something that she took to be exasperation and her hands stopped in their exploration. A sudden chill ran through her, causing gooseflesh to rise on practically every square inch of her body and also causing her nipples to tighten almost painfully.  
  
  
Acutely aware that she was standing stark naked in the small bathroom of a CIA-furnished jet with her ex-boyfriend sitting outside the door thinking about why the hell it was taking her so long to examine herself for any markings that she hadn't had previously, Sydney suddenly felt ridiculously and utterly exposed.  
  
  
Gulping down the lump in her throat, Sydney crossed her arms over her chest protectively and mumbled, "I-I; don't see anything yet."  
  
  
"All; right," Vaughn said with another sigh, and Sydney imagined he rubbed his hand over his face and perhaps pinched the bridge of his nose.  
  
  
Nuances amused her.  
  
  
Sydney let out a heavy sigh and uncrossed her arms. She leaned over the sink so that her face was close to the mirror and touched her fingertips to her forehead, cheek, nose, mouth, and chin. She turned her head slightly as she touched each area, trying to get the best viewing angle so that she could really see if something was there that shouldn't have been. She lifted her chin and brushed her fingers over her neck, checking there as well.  
  
  
Satisfied that her face and neck were free of any odd marks, she decided to inform Vaughn that at least *that* phase of her exploration was complete. "There;'s nothing on my face and neck," she announced in a voice that surprised her. She sounded almost *proud.*  
  
  
"All; right," Vaughn said again, sounding a bit bored.  
  
  
Sydney's spirits sank awfully low at that. _Why does Vaughn sound so annoyed and maybe even *irritated* with me?_ she asked herself, feeling her eyes begin to crinkle at the edges with the inevitability of the tears that were beginning to form and would eventually fall. Sydney scrubbed a hand over her eyes roughly and asked, "Vaughn;, what's going on? A little while ago, we were talking and laughing and it was like nothing had happened." Vaughn sighed as she paused. "What; the hell happened in twenty minutes that you're pissed at me now?"  
  
  
Vaughn sighed again as he contemplated his answer.  
  
  
"I; wish you'd stop doing that," Sydney grumbled.  
  
  
"Doing; what?" Vaughn shot back with the same venom that had been evident in Sydney's tone of voice.  
  
  
"That; sigh you do when you're exasperated," Sydney explained in a tone that just about displayed her own exasperation.  
  
  
"Sorry;," Vaughn said softly, in such a genuinely apologetic tone that Sydney's heart would have melted had she not still been upset with Vaughn's earlier actions.  
  
  
"It;'s all right," she said finally.  
  
  
"Look;," Vaughn began, "I;'m not trying to sound pissed off, it's just that I'm still trying to get used to the fact that you're *here.* You're alive and you're just—*here.* You know? I mean, if you had been able to see what the past two years have been like for me, your father, Will—" he sighed, "if; you could have seen what we went through, you'd understand that when I got the call saying that you had turned up alive, it was as if you had literally come back from the dead." His voice nearly broke on the last word and Sydney swore she heard him fight back a sob.  
  
  
Sydney bit her lip hard enough to bring blood and she inwardly cursed herself as the coppery liquid slid over her tongue and down her throat. She lavished her lip with her tongue as she thought of what to say. She understood—or at least she *thought* she understood—what Vaughn must have felt those two years she had been missing. But, she had had a lot more stuff to deal with than he had. He might have been torn up over the fact that she hadn't been there, but he had found the strength to get on with his life, to progress. Sydney didn't have that option. When Vaughn had walked in and began talking with her, and dropped the bombshell that two years had gone by without her knowledge, she couldn't do anything about it. She couldn't struggle in vain to try and pretend that she hadn't lost a rather large portion of her life and that more things had happened in that time than she could have imagined. She didn't want to sound like a bitch and say that she would have switched places with him in a heartbeat just so she could have part of her *_life_* back, and so Vaughn could see what it was like being confused, lost, and lonely. That, along with the fact that the person you had considered to be your guide through all of the hard times had slipped through your fingers without so much as a farewell or a so long or a see you later.  
  
  
She wouldn't do that to him though, *_couldn't_* do that to him. Not when he had been her friend for so long and had helped her when she needed it most, when he had come through for her in Hong Kong, allowing her to be strong and to—quite literally—stand on her own two feet again. She wasn't sure how she would have reacted had her father or Will shown up to see her. She imagined that both of them wouldn't have been as wooden as Vaughn had been when he first walked in.  
  
  
She needed that.  
  
  
She needed him to be a bit resolute with her so that he could explain and so that he wouldn't allow her for even one second to wallow in self-pity or to explode in anger when she knew that it wasn't him she was angry at, but that she was determined to take her frustration out on the nearest breathing specimen.  
  
  
Plus, his stoicism had moved her—how he had been able to hold himself up that well without breaking down, taking her in his arms, and telling her how much he missed her, had thought about her and how many times he had just sat and wondered if she was hurt or dead or being tortured to the point of disfigurement or anything else that he could have imagined but cursed himself every time he thought about it.  
  
  
But, she was still stubborn, and she needed to tell him that she was hurting too, just as much as he was and had been for so long. She needed the two of them to have that connection in their newly reborn friendship that she wanted to preserve with him for the rest of her life. She gritted her teeth a bit, then relaxed her jaw and exhaled deeply.  
  
  
"Vaughn;, I can only imagine what you must have went through during those two years, but let me tell you something: when you dropped that pile of shit on me, telling me a chunk of my life was over, I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how to react. I mean, Jesus—*_two_* years! I mean look at what can happen in that space of time—look at what *has* happened! We took down SD-6, we nearly solved the Rambaldi mystery, and you and I were able to date without the possibility of being killed if we so much as walked down the sidewalk together. Right now, I'm not even sure I want to know what has happened in the two years since I've been gone. I don't know if it'll make me feel better or worse to learn that things have either changed very little or very dramatically, and frankly, I'm completely afraid to find out the answer to that." She paused to take a breath and to let what she had said so far sink in to Vaughn's brain. "So;, what I'm trying to say is," she continued, her voice softening considerably, "I; know you went through a lot of pain with having me snatched from thin air and having to figure out where I had disappeared to, but I also know that you were apparently able to pick yourself up. You got *married,* Vaughn, you were able to settle down and be happy. As for me, I have to start at ground zero and work to pick up the pieces and hope that while I'm doing that I don't end up missing more of my life than I already have. So basically, I'm sorry for jumping down your throat earlier, I was just confused because things had gone so well earlier and I couldn't understand what I had done to make you so mad at me." Sydney's voice had begun to waver on the last few words and her shoulders shook as sobs built up through her body and were released violently.  
  
  
While Vaughn mulled over her words or whatever it was he was doing, Sydney resumed her self-examination, leaving no area of her skin untouched by her fingers as she smoothed her hands along her body, feeling for bumps, scars, scrapes, or anything of the like. She turned around after finishing with her front and examined her back. She lifted her hair to try and see if there was anything on the back of her neck, and, when she found nothing—even though she couldn't *see* that area very well—she let her hair pool around her shoulders and began to dress.  
  
  
Nervousness settled into her stomach as Vaughn still hadn't responded to her monologue. She considered calling to him, but decided against it. If he was, for any reason, bitter at her for what she said even though it had been the plain honest truth, she wouldn't allow him the satisfaction of knowing that his silence had unnerved her. So instead, she dressed in silence and let him think about whatever he was going to say to her—_if he says anything at all,_ a voice in her head reminded her curtly.  
  
  
When she had finished dressing and making her hair look as normal as she could even though it was your basic bird's nest and she didn't have a brush or comb to tame the mess, Sydney opened the door and stepped into the cabin. A smile crossed her lips as Vaughn was waiting with his arms outstretched and a smile of his own playing on his mouth. Sydney stretched her own arms out and enveloped Vaughn in a hug as she felt his arms go around her, pulling her close to him.  
  
  
"I;'m sorry I snapped at you, and I'm sorry I didn't do a terribly great job of trying to understand what you had to have been feeling when I saw you in the safehouse," Vaughn whispered into Sydney's hair.  
  
  
"Me; too," Sydney admitted, "but; I'm glad we're okay."  
  
  
"Mhm;," Vaughn murmured.  
  
  
Sydney pulled back and looked at him. "Earlier;, when we were at the safehouse, you said they asked you to come back." She bit her lip when Vaughn looked down. "What; did you mean by that?"  
  
  
Vaughn looked back up at her. "After; I married Michelle, I took a leave of absence. I needed to be free and clear of anything CIA-related for a while. I just needed to have some time to clear my head, and focus on the new direction that my life had taken."  
  
  
Sydney nodded. "I; understand."  
  
  
Vaughn gave her a small smile and went to pick up his papers and a pen. "So;, did you discover anything?" he asked, casually switching topics.  
  
  
Sydney shook her head. "No;, actually, I didn't. But, I couldn't really see the back of my neck because of the mirror and all that, so I was wondering if you could take a quick look." She turned her back to him and lifted her hair up so that Vaughn could see. She felt a finger on the back of her neck and a slight tug as Vaughn moved a few stray strands of her hair away from her skin. She swallowed hard when she heard his sharp intake of breath. "Va-Vaughn;?" she asked timidly, straining to look behind her and meet Vaughn's gaze.  
  
  
"Syd;—" he began, "do; you remember the symbol of Rambaldi?"  
  
  
"Yes;, of course, it's—" Vaughn cut her off before she could finish.  
  
  
"Sydney;, it's tattooed on the back of your neck."  
  
  
**A/N: **This story is going to pick up very soon, I promise you. I mean, right now, it's been four chapters of S and V conversations, rofl;x But, I promise I'll have the reunion of Sydney with Will, her father, Kendall, Marshall, Dixon, too, probably plus, I'm getting all sorts of ideas of how to interpret The Telling and what the hell the machine does, as well as what Sloane might be up to, and Irina and Sark, and all that, so don't worry Oh, and in the meantime, review, so I can get an idea of who's reading this and where I can improve, and things like that. Feedback is really a spirit booster;)


	5. Haven

**Five  
  
Haven  
  
  
  
**

"You; can't be serious," Sydney said in utter disbelief.  
  
  
"I; really wish I wasn't, Syd, but I can't exactly deny this," Vaughn told her. "Here;, let me see if I can find another mirror so I can show you." With that, he gently pushed her back into the bathroom and began searching for some sort of small mirror. He found one and Sydney turned her back to the bathroom mirror and lifted her hair up as Vaughn angled the mirror he held in his hand so Sydney could see the marking.  
  
  
"Jesus;," Sydney murmured. Her eyes were transfixed on the rather tiny (about the width of Sydney's pinky fingernail) but still recognizable Rambaldi symbol of an eye. A sudden thought made her fight down the lump in her throat before she spoke. "You; know what really scares me," she began in a hushed voice, "is; how small it is."  
  
  
"What; do you mean?" Vaughn asked, his brow wrinkling in confusion.  
  
  
"Well;, I guess I'm saying that I really have no way of knowing how long it's been there." She made sure she caught Vaughn's reaction to what she had said, as it would undoubtedly tell her a great deal about whether or not he believed that the marking was recent or had been there for God knows how long. Besides, it wasn't exactly as if she checked the back of her neck constantly to see if there was anything odd on it. Unfortunately, Vaughn was rather indifferent to what she had said, so she spoke again. "I; mean, what if—"  
  
  
"I; know," Vaughn said, "I; know what you're thinking, but we'll wait until we get home. Medical services should be able to tell us how long it's been there."  
  
  
"Yeah;," Sydney agreed, letting her hair cascade around her shoulders and sighing heavily. "I; should get some sleep," she said, already on her way out of the bathroom.  
  
  
Vaughn responded by digging through a closet of sorts and getting a blanket and pillow for himself and a blanket and pillow for Sydney. Thanking him with a smile, Sydney returned to the love seat upon which she had been seated earlier and dropped the pillow onto it before curling up and pulling the blanket over her. Vaughn similarly found a couch and made himself comfortable. He cast a glance at Sydney and saw that she had already fallen fast asleep. He was reminded of the time he had watched her sleep when they had both been checked to see if they carried any traces of the virus from Taipei.  
  
  
He sighed a bit, thinking of how peaceful she looked then and how peaceful she looked now and it nearly broke his heart with everything he knew she would have to deal with when they returned home. He wished everything could be the way it was, at least in terms of Sydney not having lost two years of her life. He didn't want her to go through the pain of feeling confused, lost, and lonely—it wasn't fair to her and she didn't deserve it. She had done so much good and to have Fate deal her the cards it had was just completely unjustified.  
  
  
Vaughn looked over at Sydney again, feeling a strong desire to protect her stir within him. How could he *not* want to protect her? One look at her was enough for anyone to want to shield her from any harm that may come her way. Plus, he cared about her a great deal as she was definitely one of his best friends and one of the few people he could count on to come to his aid.  
  
  
*How* many times had she saved his life?  
  
  
Not wanting to think about the answer to that, Vaughn just curved his head into the pillow and nodded off.  
  
  
  
  
Sydney awoke a few hours later following an announcement that they were about to land and thus needed to fasten their seat belts. She guided herself into a sitting position and stood up and sat in the nearest seat belt-bearing chair to prepare for the landing. She noticed that Vaughn had done so as well and began absently drumming her fingers on the sleek arms of the chair. Part of her believed that it was just an unconscious, soothing action as she steeled herself for the landing, but another part of her insisted it was nerves brought on by the forthcoming reunion.  
  
  
The first option was more appealing, but the second was more likely. Sydney was extremely apprehensive about fitting back into her old life, or if she would even really be able to do so. It had been easy with Vaughn, somehow. They were able to slip back into the comfortable friendship despite everything that had happened and Sydney was thankful for that. But, what would happen with her father and Will? Would the same thing that happened with Vaughn at the safehouse occur, or would they both be unsure about her and unwilling to accept her back into their lives?  
  
  
Her stomach churned furiously and Sydney swallowed hard, vaguely aware that her entire body was shaking and her lip was trembling quite a bit.  
  
  
The plane finally landed and, if it was possible, Sydney was even more freaked out than before. She glanced down at her clothes and briefly wished that she had something decidedly less drab for meeting up with Will and her father again. She licked lips suddenly gone dry and unbuckled her seat belt when it was safe for her to do so.  
  
  
Sydney nearly leapt out of her seat and began to make her way to the front of the plane when Vaughn grabbed her wrist to halt her. Sydney raised an eyebrow at him and Vaughn stood up.  
  
  
"Syd;, take this slow, all right? Don't just go out there and pretend to be your normal self. You and I both know that you're not up to that right now. You're still feeling around and that's fine. I don't want you to get ahead of yourself, and I know you don't want that either," Vaughn said, staring directly into Sydney's eyes to get his point across.  
  
  
Sydney nodded reluctantly and patted Vaughn's cheek as if to let him know that she understood what he said but that she could take care of herself. With that, she led the way to the front of the cabin, Vaughn at her heels.  
  
  
In a moment or two, she was off of the plane and parading down the tunnel that connected the plane to the airport terminal. She walked rather quickly, Vaughn struggling to keep up with her, but managing to do so fairly well.  
  
  
He definitely had a weakness in the "catching; up to Sydney" department.  
  
  
Sydney cast a sideways glance at him, thinking of Taipei and how he hadn't been able to get his feet moving fast enough to avoid being trapped on the wrong side of the door. Frowning slightly, she turned her gaze back to the proverbial "light; at the end of the tunnel" as she approached the airport terminal where Jack and Will were supposedly waiting.  
  
  
It was then that she saw them.  
  
  
They were sitting in the small conjoined chairs in the unoccupied waiting area. She stopped in her tracks and just looked at them, watching their reactions. They both looked up at the same time, apparently upon hearing her and Vaughn's footfalls. She locked eyes with both of them, a thunderstorm of emotions coursing through her body at such an intensity that Sydney was quite confounded at the fact that she hadn't collapsed on the floor in a puddle of goo.  
  
  
Jack was up on his feet first, but Will was right behind him. Sydney took a few more tentative steps forward before her father crushed her to his chest and held her tightly. Will remained a few feet back, so as to let father and daughter have their moment together. Of course, he wanted nothing more than to enfold Sydney in his embrace and hold her forever, but he wasn't about to intrude on something as personal and private as this.  
  
  
Sydney clung to her father tightly, her arms wound around his neck and her head on his shoulder. She heard him sigh into her hair, something that she took to be her father's own way of expressing his utter relief and happiness that she was alive and well and that he had missed her and worried about her a great deal. She knew her father wouldn't say any of those things aloud as he was a man of few words and also wished to maintain a stoic presence around her for a reason she still couldn't quite figure out. The sigh though, even with all of the meanings Sydney had already interpreted, carried another one: Jack had begun to abandon his indifferent poise. Sydney had listened carefully to the pattern of the exhalation and noticed that her father's breath hitched in his throat, indicating that he was trying to choke back a sob.  
  
  
Truly touched, Sydney burrowed her head deeper into her father's shoulder and held him tighter. This made Jack lose control of the emotions he had been fighting to keep in check and he began to sob quietly into Sydney's hair, but without shedding a tear. Likewise, Sydney found herself succumbing to loud sobs that she was suddenly unable to hold back.  
  
  
Father and daughter held one another for several minutes, with Will and Vaughn looking on and avoiding intrusion. After a bit, Sydney and Jack pulled apart and Sydney was about to begin crying again when she saw the genuine tears glistening in her father's eyes. As if on cue, one of the tears in Jack's eyes escaped, dancing off his lashes and crashing onto his cheek. Sydney swallowed the lump that had risen in her throat as she reached a thumb to her father's cheek to wipe away the tear.  
  
  
Jack took a long, shuddering breath and placed his hands on Sydney's shoulders and gently squeezed. He looked down for a moment, wanting to say something to her, but unable to think of anything meaningful. " he began, shaking his head ever so slightly, as if that might help him with his temporarily impaired thought process. He shook his head again, but this time it was in disbelief—disbelief at Sydney vanishing into thin air, disbelief at her seemingly coming back from the dead, and disbelief that she was standing before him looking much the same as the last time he had seen her.  
  
  
Without warning, he pulled her to him again, whispering into her ear in such a soft tone that Sydney had to strain to hear, "I; love you so much, sweetheart."  
  
  
Tears sprang to Sydney's eyes. _How long has it been since he's said that to me?_ she wondered. " she began, the word comfortingly familiar to her ears, even though she had only said it a few times to him when she was growing up, and only once in her adult life, the memory of which came back to her at that moment. _The parking garage, two—no—four,_ she corrected herself, _years ago._ "I; love you, too," she whispered.  
  
  
  
  
They finally separated a second time, and a patient Will glanced at Jack to silently ask him for permission to go to Sydney. Jack gave Will a stiff nod, the stoic expression back on his face, and Sydney almost laughed at her father's ability to slip the guarded countenance back into place so effortlessly when the situation seemingly called for it.  
  
  
Will managed to smile at Sydney through the tears evident in his eyes and said softly, "Hey.;"  
  
  
Sydney laughed then. Will was still his old self and Sydney was touched by that. She was glad that he was able to lighten the mood of angst-ridden, extremely melancholy, or heartwrenching circumstances. She shot him a grin and tossed back the same greeting, "Hey.;"  
  
  
Will's smile broadened and he stepped towards Sydney as she stepped towards him and enveloped her in his arms, cradling her head with his palm. "God;, I missed you so much, Syd."  
  
  
Sydney hugged Will tighter and whispered, "I; missed you, too."  
  
  
Will's voice was rough with the sobs threatening to pour out of him, "Sydney;, I know this is going to sound morbid, but I honestly thought you might have been dead."  
  
  
That struck a chord in Sydney and she pulled back a bit, framing Will's face with her hands. "Same; here, Will," she said. "I; mean, I was in the middle of the fight with Doren and I saw you in the bathtub and I didn't even have time to register it. I just know that I got an eerie flashback to Danny," she said softly, peering directly into Will's eyes as her hands absently smoothed over his scratchy cheeks. _He still has the stubble,_ she thought, and smiled. She always found it endearing in its own way, not to mention the fact that it just looked rather handsome on him. She glanced up and down, giving him a quick once-over. Part of her wanted to see how he might have changed and part of her wanted to see if there was any noticeable disfigurement or mutilation from whatever had happened with Doren that had left him nearly dead.  
  
  
She decided that he hadn't changed much and suddenly found herself kissing his cheeks, forehead, and the tip of his nose. She was so incredibly relieved that he was okay, as she didn't think she would be able to stand it if another person she loved and cared about had been killed. She breathed a sigh of relief and planted a friendly kiss on his mouth before wrapping her arms around his neck again.  
  
  
"Take; me home," she whispered, beginning to cry again, "please;, just take me home."  
  
  
Will closed his eyes briefly, tightening his hold on Sydney, the urge to protect her washing over him like a tidal wave. "I;'ll do anything you want," he told her, laying a kiss in her hair and cradling her head again, as he unconsciously began to rock Sydney back and forth.  
  
  
"Thank; you." Sydney had never felt more safe than she had at that moment, wrapped in Will's arms. She hugged him tighter, wanting him to protect her and help her insinuate herself into this new life. Will would be able to keep her grounded and reassure her with a warm smile that lit up his face and gave a veritable glow to his sapphire eyes.  
  
  
Not too long ago, Vaughn had been the person who had helped Sydney in whatever way he could and guided her along. Now, Sydney was certain, there was someone else who would be taking over those responsibilities and providing her with comfort and stability—giving her a safe haven.  
  
  
Will.


	6. Preservation

**Six  
  
Preservation  
  
  
  
**

"Sydney;, we need to stop by headquarters first," Vaughn said softly, "before; you can go home."  
  
  
Sydney drew back from Will and glanced at Vaughn who was now standing by her side. She gave him a small nod. "Okay.;"  
  
  
"Let;'s get going," Jack put in, beginning to lead the way out of the terminal with Vaughn following him.  
  
  
Sydney and Will exchanged glances and sighs, then Will draped an arm around Sydney's shoulders as she moved closer to him. They walked slowly, their steps in sync and the sound of their footfalls creating a comforting echo on the surface of the floor. Jack and Vaughn walked at a fast, but not really rushed pace, and Sydney and Will maintained a fair distance behind them.  
  
  
"So;," Sydney began, "how; have you been?"  
  
  
Will glanced down at her and grinned. He kissed the top of her head. "Listen; to you," he started, laughter in his voice, "you;'re asking me how I've been as if it's only been a couple of weeks since we've talked."  
  
  
Sydney looked away and stared at her feet as she walked. "I;'m sorry," she said quietly, "I; guess I just don't really know how to act when my last memory is of passing out and a short while after I wake up in a place I don't remember going to, I'm suddenly told that two years have gone by."  
  
  
Will lifted her chin up and turned her face towards him. "I; didn't mean it as if you were acting like nothing has happened and nothing has changed. I just meant that you're handling this really well, in your own way—the way you feel is right. I admire that, Sydney."  
  
  
She looked away again, feeling her cheeks begin to burn with her previous misunderstanding. "Thanks;," she said meekly.  
  
  
Will pulled her closer to him and Sydney instantly felt better. Will glanced down at Sydney, seeing her eyes focused straight ahead, ignoring anything that may interfere with her concentration of getting from point A to point B. He realized how symbolic it was, given everything she had accomplished in the past and not letting outside forces interfere with the goals she had. He really *did* admire her—for so many reasons.  
  
  
But still, something about her intense concentration unnerved him. Will frowned a bit and followed Sydney's gaze. It was always a good idea to remain focused on what one wanted to accomplish, but, it really wasn't a good idea to ignore everything else and avoid putting those other things into perspective. Will knew that Sydney wanted to get back on the straight and narrow as quickly and painlessly as possible. He knew she didn't want to have to go through a long process with all sorts of detours distracting her from where she ultimately wanted to end up.  
  
  
He knew she would have to deal with those things even though she desperately wanted to sidestep them.  
  
  
She would have to take baby steps to officially be able to return to the life she once led. First and foremost, she would have to be examined for any life-altering or life-threatening physical or mental changes. Even if nothing was found, she still wouldn't be clear. She might even have to be checked periodically to make sure that nothing had been overlooked.  
  
  
All of that aside, she still had to be reacquainted with the people she knew—Kendall, Dixon, Marshall, and the nameless people that she had no doubt had an effect on if she was unaware of it herself. After that, she would probably have to undergo a rigorous training program to reintroduce to her what she may have forgotten in terms of being an agent before she would ever be allowed to return to the field.  
  
  
Will knew that all of this would frustrate her to no end. He knew that whatever she had gone through, she wanted to put it all behind her and return to how she had been, so that she wouldn't be forced to focus on things she didn't wish to have brought up. He also knew that Sydney would need someone to help her through all of this, keep her head on straight and prevent her from giving up and just wasting away so she wouldn't have to deal with all of the trials and tribulations.  
  
  
He would help her.  
  
  
He would do whatever it took to allow her to be the Sydney he remembered and the Sydney that he knew she wanted to be.  
  
  
So he pulled her closer to him, wrapping his arm tighter around her shoulders and smiling a bit when she burrowed closer to him. He kissed her hair as they rounded a corner and journeyed closer to the desired destination.  
  
  
  
  
When the four arrived at the joint task force building, they entered through a back door, wanting to avoid any unnecessary contact with the bustling employees parading around the rotunda. Almost immediately, Sydney was taken into custody by several burly guards. She didn't protest but she did cast a questioning and angry stare over her shoulder. Jack, Vaughn, and Will fixed indifferent expressions on their faces as Sydney was carted away to the cell that had been frequented quite a bit in recent years with an assortment of prisoners or suspected traitors.  
  
  
Once Sydney was out of view, Will sighed heavily and raked a hand through his hair. "I; can't believe we couldn't tell her anything or give her some kind of warning," he said in exasperation, referring to Sydney being held in CIA custody until she was cleared of having any involvement of something that would put the agency, the country, and possibly even the world in danger.  
  
  
Jack laid a steady hand on Will's shoulder. "We; didn't have a choice. If we had told her that she was going to be apprehended on suspicion of possibly being a traitor, it is likely that she either would have resisted or tried to escape."  
  
  
"But; we know she's not a traitor!" Will exploded. "Plus;, how is she going to even believe a thing we say now when we just betrayed her trust? Are you forgetting how we acted in the airport? We welcomed her with open arms and acted as if *nothing* was going on! By doing this, we're just going to make her transition all the more difficult."  
  
  
"Will;—" Jack started, but Vaughn cut him off.  
  
  
"I; know this isn't exactly a great process, but we don't have any other choice. Obviously, since we've all known Sydney for so long and have been able to see who she really is, we're biased into thinking that she could never betray us or this country." Vaughn pinched the bridge of his nose before continuing, "I;'m not saying that I believe she is a traitor, all I'm saying is that we have no say in this—it's part of protocol. Someone who has been out of reach of CIA contact for that amount of time and then suddenly comes back could have dabbled in double-agency, so we have to be incredibly careful."  
  
  
Will forced himself to nod. "I; know that, but I still can't get it out of my head that all we're doing is pushing her farther away and causing her more pain than she's already had to endure during whatever she's gone through for those two years, whether she was aware of it or not."  
  
  
"That;'s the point," Vaughn said, "'whatever she's gone through.' We still have no idea if she was conscious of whatever happened to her, or if she was brainwashed, or if she has some sort of amnesia that is making her forget that she *had* done something for two years, whatever that 'something' may be."  
  
  
Will was about to argue, but Jack spoke before he could. "Will;, don't pretend that you're the only one who is being—hurt—by this. We all are. We all believe that Sydney has been manipulated beyond her control and that she is the victim. But the fact of the matter is, we have no way of knowing that what we believe is correct. Therefore, no matter how insane this process may be, it *has* to be done." He gave Will a parting glance before walking away.  
  
  
Vaughn took a few steps forward before tossing a few words of reassurance over his shoulder, "You; don't have to worry, Will. This will all be resolved. Trust me."  
  
  
Will agreed with a nod and was immediately reminded of his own experience of having been suspected of treachery. He was proven to be innocent of course, and the real traitor was dealt with, but he still had to live with the fact that for a short while, he hadn't been trusted, and as a result, he was threatened and nearly killed, all because of Allison Georgia Doren.  
  
  
Gritting his teeth and clenching his fists, Will stiffly walked in the direction of the rotunda.  
  
  
  
  
Sydney sat on the small, uncomfortable cot in the all-too-familiar cell. She stared at the floor, willing herself to not succumb to the urge of beating on the glass and demanding to be let out. She couldn't understand why she was being held in here. Granted, she *had* been gone for two years, and God only knew what the hell had happened to her—if anything—during those years, because for the life of her, Sydney sure couldn't recall anything.  
  
  
She knew this had to be part of the standard protocol for an agent who had either been in deep cover or who had disappeared without a trace and miraculously showed up one day confused as hell. Despite knowing that, there was still something she couldn't understand—why had Vaughn, her father, and Will all graciously accepted her when she had shown up? Why did they act as if everything was how it had been before?  
  
  
_They didn't want me to be suspicious of them acting suspicious,_ she realized with a laugh that originated in her gut and came out remarkably throaty and sinister. She didn't care, though. She was far past caring. Why should she, anyway? Here she was, sitting in a cell reserved for prisoners and traitors, when she was—as far as she knew—completely innocent. What was she to do? What *could* she do? The answer of course, was nothing, she would just have to wait until everything was sorted out and her innocence was proven.  
  
  
She sighed heavily, suddenly finding herself thinking about how Will must have felt when he went through this. She remembered being scared when she had asked him about their drunken kiss and he couldn't remember the details surrounding the event. Sydney had been afraid that there was a possibility that he really wasn't who he claimed to be. She sighed and fast-forwarded a bit, and remembered feeling relieved, elated, and utterly happy when she found out that Will was innocent and that he was safe and okay.  
  
  
A tear that had formed in her eye escaped and traveled down her cheek. She lifted it away with a finger and sniffed. She was about to attempt to forget about the pain she was feeling and try to take a nap when she was interrupted by some burly guards and a woman apparently from medical services holding a neatly folded hospital-type gown.  
  
  
The woman asked one of the guards to open the door and she went in, stopping a couple of feet from the cot. She dropped the gown onto it. "Put; that on," she commanded in such a brisk tone that Sydney actually shivered, "and; they—" she gestured to the guards as if she thought Sydney didn't have enough common sense to put two and two together, "will; escort you to medical services. Hurry," the woman added before slipping out of the room and down the hall.  
  
  
Sydney glanced down at the gown, then up at the guards, who closed the door in case she was going to try and make a sudden escape, then stood their ground. They stared intently at Sydney, watching her every move. Sydney stared at them a few moments longer, figuring they would get the hint and at least turn around to give her a shred of privacy. She knew there was a camera in the cell, so she would have to deal with whomever was watching on the monitors in the rotunda, but at least they weren't standing right in front of her.  
  
  
There were only the burly guards.  
  
  
Narrowing her eyes, Sydney muttered, "Can;'t you let me have a bit of privacy here?"  
  
  
One of the guards shook his head, but didn't bother providing an explanation. Sydney stared a moment longer, hoping the guard might elaborate, then was resolved to her fate as she picked up the gown and unfolded it. She was nearly fuming, but managed to keep her fury in check. The gown was unfolded and Sydney bit back a curse as it was the kind that tied in the back. If it had been one that she could have pulled over her head, she might have been able to remove most of her clothes under the gown.  
  
  
She gave the guards one last glance, willing them to have some decency and turn their backs. When they didn't budge, Sydney shrugged her shoulders absently. If they wanted to be assholes, that was their problem. She tugged her shirt up and over her head and deliberately stared at the guards, hoping that she could guilt them into turning around.  
  
  
Apparently though, these guys had no shame. They all stared at her, their eyes burning into Sydney's skin. Gooseflesh broke out on Sydney's body and she fought back the shiver that was about to run through her. _Screw it,_ she decided, _if they want to get off on watching a helpless woman undress under their scrutiny, fine.  
  
_  
She dropped the shirt onto the cot and pulled off her pants, holding the gaze of the guards the entire time. If they had no shame, she wouldn't either. She reached behind her back and unhooked her bra, taking her time in removing it from her body. As she expected, the cold air that rushed against her skin caused her nipples to rise and stiffen.  
  
  
She ignored this.  
  
  
Before she reached for the gown, so she could at least have a bit of cover when she went to take off her panties, she was aware that the gazes of the guards had moved to the scar on her abdomen. _Maybe they're not complete perverts after all,_ she thought as she picked up the gown and put it on, not tying it yet. She moved her hands behind her and hooked her thumbs in the elastic of her panties and slid them off easily under the gown. She put them with the rest of her clothes and pulled the robe as tight as she could in the back and tied it.  
  
  
She raised an eyebrow at the guards. "Can; we go now?" she asked, determined to resist the urge to plaster a fake smile on her face and bat her eyelashes sweetly.  
  
  
The guard who had shook his head earlier now nodded and unlocked the door. Sydney smirked and walked out of the cell where her arms were held securely by two of the guards as the group made its way down the hall and towards medical services.  
  
  
**A/N: **Okay, well, I have to thank you people for the lovely reviews you've given me so far;) I, personally, have only been reading a couple of the post-'Telling' fics that have been posted because there are so many and they all seem to have similar concepts, making me feel as if I'm reading the same story twelve times. So, thank you to those who are enjoying this so far, I have a **ton** of stuff I want to explore. To give you an idea, I've gone six chapters and nearly 15,000 words and I've barely covered the first few bullets of the seven-page (so far) note sheet I wrote up a couple weeks ago;x


	7. Examination

**Seven  
  
Examination  
  
  
  
**

Sydney was led into a small room that resembled a regular doctor's office. She sighed as the door shut behind her, with one the guards breaking his silence long enough to say that the doctor would be with her in a few minutes. She reached behind her, fiddling with the gown again and tying it tighter around her.  
  
  
She looked around and saw that there was a bed-like structure with a drawer that was pulled out and doubled as something of a stepladder. She placed a foot on it and turned around so that she was sitting on the paper-covered examination table. She looked around the room and found that there wasn't much to look at—the place was drab and even a bit dreary.  
  
  
She wanted to go home.  
  
  
She crossed her arms over her chest. The gown may have covered everything that mattered, but the fact that she was naked beneath it wasn't exactly ideal. She sighed heavily and swung her legs back and forth absently, beginning to grow impatient. _What the hell is taking so long? Surely there can't be many more patients in the "CIA; Doctor's Office of Doom."  
  
_  
Before she could ponder the wait any longer, the door opened, and in walked a woman about Sydney's age who was about five foot ten with shoulder-length jet black hair, hazel eyes, and a permanent scowl—it was the same woman who had brought Sydney the gown earlier. She stretched out a hand to Sydney, who reluctantly grasped it. "I;'m Dr. Moore," she said in a rather unfriendly tone.  
  
  
"As; opposed to Dr. 'Less'?" Sydney retorted, then immediately regretted having said anything when the doctor looked at her with a certain degree of coldness in her eyes.  
  
  
"I;'m not amused by your attempt at humor, Ms. Bristow, I hope you realize that," Moore said, busying herself with several tools that she evidently planned to use on Sydney.  
  
  
Not willing to sacrifice her dignity for some bitch in a white coat, Sydney shot back, "Well;, I do apologize, but how would you feel if you woke up to find that two years had been taken away from you and when you return home you're locked up under suspicion of being a double-agent?"  
  
  
Moore set down what she had been holding and stared for a long while at the instrument, feeling Sydney's gaze on her back. She felt a pang of sympathy towards Sydney. She didn't know her personally, but she knew enough about her to be aware of the fact that Sydney was a valuable asset who had helped with numerous hardships that had been faced by the CIA. She also knew that when Sydney had disappeared, the whole office had become quieter and even desolate at times.  
  
  
Sydney was loved and respected even by those who had never met her.  
  
  
Moore sighed a bit and kept her gaze fixed on the array of instruments in front of her as she said, "Let;'s begin, shall we?"  
  
  
Before Sydney could reply, Moore had already begun her examination. She started with her stethoscope, politely asking Sydney to breathe in and out when she instructed her to do so. Next, she checked Sydney's nose, ears, and throat. She took out a small pad and a pen and began jotting down her observations.  
  
  
Unable to keep her curiosity in check, Sydney peered down at the pad, trying to read what was being written and asked, "What; are you writing?"  
  
  
Annoyed, Moore narrowed her eyes at Sydney and angled the pad towards her chest so Sydney couldn't read it. "It;'s nothing that concerns you," Moore told Sydney, still writing furiously.  
  
  
"You; bitch," Sydney spat venomously, causing Moore to look up at her in shock, her mouth agape. "You; stop mid-examination to write something down and you're saying that it has nothing to do with me?!"  
  
  
Clearly pissed, Moore said, "Ms.; Bristow, I will not tolerate this behavior!"  
  
  
Sydney balked. "You; won't *tolerate* it?! And what? You expect *me* to tolerate *you* treating me like a child, not even telling me what the hell you're writing about me?!"  
  
  
"Ms.; Bristow, your attitude towards me along with the suspicion you're under already is more than enough for the CIA to take action and lock you up for the rest of your life or perhaps even execute you," Moore stated, her chin raised in a defiant air.  
  
  
Sydney felt a wave of emotion wash over her and suddenly she couldn't stop the tears that swam into her eyes and blurred her vision. "Do; you honestly think I *care* about that? It's not as if I have a *life* right now. Given everything that's happened, I'm just as good as dead anyway."  
  
  
Moore stared at her silently for a moment, inwardly cursing herself for feeling sympathetic again. Here was Little Miss CIA Darling treating her like dirt, taking her anger out on her when she had nothing to do with what had happened, and she was actually feeling *sorry* for the woman.  
  
  
Not wanting Sydney to see that she was actually pained, she scoffed a bit and rolled her eyes and shoved a few tissues in Sydney's face in a gesture that she hoped Sydney saw as pity. But Sydney was oblivious to Moore's actions and merely thanked her for the tissues as she wiped her eyes. Moore stood silently watching Sydney dabbing at her eyes and struggling to contain the sobs that tore from her body. Finally, Moore placed a comforting hand on Sydney's shoulder.  
  
  
"It;'s all right," she said in the most soothing voice she could.  
  
  
Sydney's cheeks flamed red from embarrassment at breaking down in front of the doctor. Moore reached for the crumpled tissues and Sydney handed them over, watching Moore toss them into the receptacle behind the examination table.  
  
  
"Should; we continue?" Moore asked.  
  
  
Deciding that perhaps this was her chance to mend things with the good doctor, Sydney said, "The; examination, yes; the exchange of cutting remarks, no."  
  
  
"Good;," Moore said, nodding approvingly, "then; we're in agreement." She gave Sydney a tentative smile which Sydney returned. "Now;, I was told that you have two markings that you didn't have before your disappearance."  
  
  
"Yes;," Sydney began, "there;'s a large scar on my stomach and a tattoo of the Rambaldi symbol on the back of my neck."  
  
  
"Sheesh;," Moore blurted.  
  
  
Sydney nodded. "I; know."  
  
  
"Well;, let's take a look at the stomach scar first," Moore said, glancing down at Sydney's gown, then back up into Sydney's eyes, as if inviting her to remove the gown partially so that she could take a look at the scar.  
  
  
Sydney swallowed hard. She knew she was being childish in this regard. After all, she *had* just undressed in front of several guards a short while ago. But still, she wasn't exactly big on the idea of being naked in front of people with whom she wasn't all that familiar. Especially, when that involved being naked in front of someone with whom she had just had an argument and subsequently embarrassed herself.  
  
  
How much more exposed—whether literally or metaphorically—did she need to be?  
  
  
"You; want me to—"  
  
  
Moore chuckled. "Now; isn't exactly the time to be modest, Ms. Bristow."  
  
  
Sighing heavily, Sydney reached behind her back to untie the gown. She slipped her arms out of it, still keeping it poised at her chest for a moment before allowing it to pool into her lap as she crossed her arms over her chest. Moore spotted the scar almost immediately and traced it with her finger. She put another finger over it and pressed rather hard, making Sydney yelp in pain.  
  
  
"Mr.; Vaughn told me about that," Moore said, referring to the pain Sydney felt when the portion of her abdomen where her scar resided was pressed. "I;'m sorry to have caused you any more pain, but you understand that I had to see exactly where it was that the pain was stemming from."  
  
  
Through gritted teeth, Sydney said, "Yes;, Doctor, I understand."  
  
  
"Good;," Moore replied, fixing her stone cold eyes on Sydney.  
  
  
Sydney felt a chill run though her at Moore's lingering stare. Unconsciously, she wrapped her arms tighter around herself. "You; wanted to look at the tattoo next?" she prompted, eager to end the awkward moment.  
  
  
"Yes;," Moore said with a nod, taking out her pad and pen again and jotting down a few more notes. Learning from her earlier experience, Sydney decided to keep her mouth shut. "Go; ahead and put your gown back on."  
  
  
Sydney kept one arm over her chest as she lifted the gown up and carefully slid one arm through, then the other, and tying it tight again. She lifted her hair up as Moore stepped behind her to look at the symbol of Rambaldi.  
  
  
Tracing a finger along the marking, Moore said, "Ms.; Bristow, this isn't a tattoo, this is a mole cluster."  
  
  
Sydney's head whipped around. "What;?"  
  
  
"It;'s a mole cluster," Moore repeated, "that; just *happens* to look like it forms Rambaldi's symbol. I think it's just a coincidence, though. I highly doubt it means anything, as it *is* rather small and not entirely noticeable. I wouldn't worry about it."  
  
  
"All; right," Sydney said with a nod. "But; are you sure that it's not a tattoo?" she asked.  
  
  
Moore frowned at her. "I;'m a doctor, Ms. Bristow, I'm paid to make correct observations. I'm not here for amusement."  
  
  
"I; didn't mean to make it sound like you don't know what you're doing. It's just that it's really rather small and I was wondering if you could truly tell if—"  
  
  
"Yes;, I can," Moore said, cutting her off. "If; you want me to really waste your time, I can take a sample of your skin cells back here and let you know if there is any trace of ink," she said, catching Sydney's gaze and tilting her head sideways a bit.  
  
  
"No;, that's fine," Sydney said quickly.  
  
  
"Very; well," Moore said with a shrug.  
  
  
"So;," Sydney began, crossing her arms over her chest as she was feeling a bit nervous again, "what; other things do you have to do?"  
  
  
  
  
A while later, at least a few hours, Sydney was back in the cell, napping. She had gone through a complete physical, had blood and urine tests taken, and had been subjected to hearing the results of what it was they were looking for in the tests and whether or not she had them.  
  
  
She fumed when she found out that they one of the things they had tested for was to see if she was pregnant. She exploded in front of Moore and several technicians, then stopped to think about it when she got back to the cell. The "it;" being the possibility that she *could* have been pregnant, because there was the possibility that she had been raped during whatever had been done to her in the two-year period.  
  
  
X-rays had been taken as well, but they were still being developed. This struck Sydney as odd, because it was practically instant at a normal doctor's office. She had shrugged it off, though, and managed to find a bit of peace in slumber.  
  
  
  
  
"Ms.; Bristow, would you come with me, please?"  
  
  
Sydney vaguely recognized the voice to be that of Dr. Moore and she roused herself from sleep, yawning a bit and sitting up. "What; now?" she asked in a tone that was half irritated and half utterly afraid of what else had to be done.  
  
  
"Just; come with me," Moore said impatiently.  
  
  
Sydney stood up and followed Moore out of the room, a bit surprised that no guards were flanking her. "Am; I no longer considered to be a security risk?" she asked dryly. "There;'s no one to stop me if I try to, you know, escape or something."  
  
  
Moore chuckled, but Sydney knew she was rolling her eyes and biting back a retort. Sydney smirked a bit and absently shoved her hands into her pockets as she continued to follow Moore down the hallway towards whatever destination Moore had in mind.  
  
  
A couple of minutes later, Sydney found herself back in the small room that she was now able to recognize as the site of quite fond memories.  
  
  
"Well;, here we are again," Sydney said with an annoyed sigh as she practically made a scene as she climbed back up onto the examination table and folded her hands in her lap.  
  
  
"Indeed;," Moore said, opening a large, pumpkin-colored envelope. She pulled out several x-ray prints and slid them into the display on the wall. She set down the envelope, and, after shooting a pointed glance at Sydney, flipped on the light on the display, thus illuminating the x-rays.  
  
  
Sydney's heart leaped into her throat.  
  
  
Her gaze was fixed on the x-ray with the rather large oval-shaped object near her pelvis. "What; the hell is that?" she asked in a hushed voice that betrayed her confusion, anger, and frustration.  
  
  
Moore shook her head. "I; really don't know, to tell you the truth."  
  
  
Sydney swallowed hard and bit her lip. "How; can we find out?"  
  
  
Moore sighed a bit and ran a hand through her hair. "The; only way is to slice open your belly and take a look," she said with a shrug.  
  
  
Sydney glared at the doctor. "That;'s the only damn way? Putting me under the knife?"  
  
  
An amused smile crossed Moore's lips. "Yep.;"  
  
  
"Jesus;," Sydney muttered under her breath.  
  
  
Moore's smile broadened. "I; take it you're not exactly, shall we say—complaisant—with the idea?"  
  
  
"What; was your first clue?" Sydney shot back through clenched teeth.  
  
  
"There;'s no need for the attitude, Ms. Bristow," Moore scolded her, "and; to think, I was actually beginning to like you a little bit."  
  
  
Sydney pressed both hands over her heart dramatically, pretending to be upset. "Gosh;, Dr. Moore, I-I'm just so heartbroken!" She rolled her eyes and placed her hands back in her lap as she let out a frustrated groan.  
  
  
Moore genuinely smiled and Sydney found herself raising an eyebrow. "Come; now," Moore said, playing along, "we; can still be friends."  
  
  
"You;'re not going to let this go, are you?" Sydney accused, glaring pointedly at Moore.  
  
  
"Ms.; Bristow, it's obvious your frustration is hiding your true emotions. I was lucky to see a little bit of them earlier when you pretty much—" she paused for effect, "broke; down."  
  
  
Sydney dropped her gaze from Moore's eyes and sighed heavily. "Fine;, I'll guess we'll find a way for our clashing sarcasm to not get in the way of our doctor-patient relationship."  
  
  
"I; must say, I'm impressed," Moore said with another genuine smile.  
  
  
Sydney smirked. "I; aim to please."  
  
  
Moore returned the smirk. "Good; to know."  
  
  
Apparently their clashing sarcasm wasn't so bad after all.  
  
  
**A/N:** First and foremost, I want to thank **Sim1** for the absolutely lovely review you left me. I can't tell you how much it means to me to know that a story of mine can be held in such high regard, so thank you very much;) Next, about Dr. Moore, hee, well I was actually planning on making her just a *small* character, but I'm thinking I might expand the role into something bigger and perhaps have her develop a friendship with Sydney. That way, Sydney can have a chick friend to confide in if the need arises (coughFranciereplacementcough;x).


	8. Consolation

**Eight  
  
Consolation  
  
  
  
**

A while later, after receiving the news from Dr. Moore, Sydney was back in the cell again. She was laying horizontally on the cot, looking up at the camera in the far corner of the room close to the ceiling. She stared directly into the lens, wondering who was watching her from the rotunda. After a bit, she closed her eyes and her breathing lapsed into a regular pattern as she slowly began to fall asleep.  
  
  
Sleeping was difficult though, given the fact that the room was nearly freezing and all she had on were the clothes from Hong Kong. She shivered, wishing she could take a hot shower, anything to be warm as well as cleanse the grime on her body.  
  
  
Luckily for Sydney, the thought of the current unattainable luxury provided her with a current of warmth that spread through her body like an invisible blanket. Despite everything that had happened and the horrid state she was in, she actually smiled. It creeped her out a bit, but she attributed the upturn of her mouth to the knowledge that she *would* get out of here, some way, somehow.  
  
  
Sighing contentedly, she curled herself up in a ball and slept.  
  
  
  
  
A light knock on the glass caused Sydney to stir. Inwardly groaning, she sat up and looked to see whom it was who had disturbed her. Her heart fluttered when she saw Will standing on the other side of the glass. She jumped up and ran over, wanting nothing more than to leave the cell and enter Will's embrace that she was quite certain would protect her from anything even remotely hurtful.  
  
  
She looked into his eyes. He was quite literally all she had left. Francie was dead, Vaughn was married, and her father was just her father. She bit her lip and gave Will a smile, hoping that he had good news to give her. Her heart sank as he continued to look at her with the stoic expression that Vaughn had used when he came to the safehouse.  
  
  
Sydney put her hands against the glass, partially to make a bit of a connection between herself and Will if he did the same, and partially because her whole body felt weak and the solid glass was preventing her from sliding to the floor.  
  
  
"Will;, I can't take this anymore," she whispered, lowering her gaze. "I; want to go home."  
  
  
Will said nothing, only stood there, watching helplessly as Sydney began to break down. His instincts were telling him to either bust down the glass or yell for a guard to come and unlock the cell. His instructions had been to tell Sydney what she already knew: that she was suspected of being a double-agent due to the length of her absence.  
  
  
Of course, he, Jack, and Vaughn knew in their hearts that Sydney wasn't a double-agent and that she hadn't done anything to betray the CIA. Realistically, there was no way to prove that she *was* a double-agent, and she would probably be freed once the CIA had determined, based on their own analysis, that she had not done anything that went against what the CIA believed in.  
  
  
The next step was a debrief to find out what she may have forgotten and see if perhaps memories of the last two years could be conjured up. Will had been instructed to be completely devoid of any emotion when he went to talk to Sydney, that he would be able to do all that when she was released, but seeing her struggle to hold herself together after having been through so much, the task was becoming increasingly more difficult.  
  
  
Sydney wiped away her tears with her sleeve and collapsed onto the cot, wrapping her arms around herself as she suddenly felt incredibly cold again. She stared at the floor, crying silently, almost wishing that she had been killed so she wouldn't have to deal with what she had to deal with right now.  
  
  
Will stood rooted to his place, looking at Sydney for a moment more before swiftly walking down the hall. Sydney looked up, the sound of Will's footfalls as he walked farther and farther away from the cell deafening to her ears. In that moment, Sydney felt as if she had lost the only person in her life and buried her face in her hands, unable to quell the sobs that ripped her apart.  
  
  
Then something changed.  
  
  
Sydney heard more footsteps, but this time there was more than one set and they were getting closer and closer. Looking up, she saw Will and a guard standing by the door of the cell. The guard was muttering about how he shouldn't be letting Will in, but Will was ignoring him as his gaze was focused on Sydney.  
  
  
The door swung open and Sydney stood up as Will enveloped her in his arms, holding her tightly. Sydney buried her head in Will's chest, clinging to him tightly. _My lifeline,_ she thought, then shuddered at how true it was. She had absolutely no one except for Will and Will was also the person whom she knew she would have to depend on to help her get back on her feet when she got out of here.  
  
  
_If,_ the voice in her head reminded her coldly, and Sydney shuddered again.  
  
  
"Will;, please take me home," she whispered, her voice sounding weak and needy.  
  
  
She didn't care.  
  
  
"Will;, please," she pleaded, holding him tighter, afraid to let him go, to let him slip through her fingers.  
  
  
"Sydney;, I can't," Will told her truthfully, trying to hold back his emotion.  
  
  
Sydney burrowed her head farther into Will's chest. "Why; not?" she demanded through her tears.  
  
  
"Sydney;, believe me, I want nothing more than to do whatever you want me to do, including getting you away from this and letting you go home, but I can't do that, yet." Will kept his voice low, afraid that those in the rotunda might be observing and listening carefully to everything he said. He hugged Sydney tighter, hoping that she would be able to understand the verity of his words.  
  
  
She started to cry again and his heart broke. He couldn't stand it when she cried. To have to watch and listen to her fall apart was bad enough, but to not be able to do anything about it made matters even worse.  
  
  
Especially in a situation like this.  
  
  
He wanted ohsomuch to take her out to his car, drive her to his apartment (hers, really, but he had stayed there, hoping in vain that she would come back), and make things as normal for her as possible.  
  
  
If she wanted, he would buy her her favorite ice cream and eat it with her because he knew that Sydney was the kind of person who would offer him a spoon.  
  
  
If she wanted, he would buy her any book she wanted so she could curl up in bed and escape the world around her as she read.  
  
  
If she wanted, he would sit with her on the couch, his arm around her as her head dropped onto his shoulder, providing her with some company and the simple fact that he was *there* for her and would be for as long as she needed.  
  
  
God, he loved her so much. He couldn't take the pain anymore, his and hers. Jacked-up CIA protocol had taken Sydney away from him the moment he had gotten her back. Not that he ever thought she was his, but the idea that someone he loved and cared for so much had to be put through so much bullshit made him completely sick. Sydney didn't deserve this. She had been through God-knows-what already, and now this! The people she loved, cared about, and trusted had betrayed her and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it.  
  
  
"Will;," Sydney began, "do; you think I'll ever get out of here?"  
  
  
"Yes;," Will replied, "and; better than that, I *know* you will."  
  
  
"How;?" Sydney asked timidly, drawing back from Will so that she could look into his eyes.  
  
  
"I; just know," Will said, reaching a thumb to her cheek to wipe away her tears. "You;'ll get out of here, there's just a bit more that you have to do first, okay?"  
  
  
Sydney nodded wordlessly and the vulnerability in her dark amber doe eyes chilled Will to the bone. She was so helpless right now and Will had to wait before he could even remotely begin thinking about how to help her.  
  
  
And it hurt.  
  
  
Will couldn't even put into words how much it hurt. He just knew that the emotional heartache he felt over not being able to help Sydney hurt more than any torture ever could. Which, of course, was certainly saying something.  
  
  
He glanced down at her mouth, wanting to seal his promise to her with a kiss. He couldn't think of any other way that might confirm to her that he was doing everything he could and that he would get her out of here no matter what it took.  
  
  
He decided to go for it. What harm could it possibly do? With that in mind, Will gently cupped her face in his hands and lowered his lips to hers. It was soft and gentle, and also quite brief. A couple of seconds passed and Will pulled back, looking into Sydney's eyes. What he saw in them warmed his heart and made him feel momentarily better and a bit more hopeful that when Sydney *did* make it out, she would be okay—  
  
  
Contentment.  
  
  
He couldn't describe it any other way. A brief wave of desire seemed to pass over her face, and then it was gone, replaced by a smile that made her eyes light up—the same smile that he had missed from when she had been gone those two years. He hadn't realized just how much he had missed it until he saw it right then. He hadn't just missed the smile either, it was the emotion behind the smile—  
  
  
Utter happiness.  
  
  
Will looked at her for another moment. He saw something else in her eyes—understanding. She understood why he had done what he did. She understood that he knew no other way to express his promise to her. She understood that sometimes things were absolutely meaningless unless backed up by some sort of unspoken action.  
  
  
"Syd;," Will began softly, "I; love you so much and I have to tell you that this just tears me apart knowing that I can't just take you away from this right this second. But I just can't do it, yet. You have to believe me when I tell you that when the time comes, you will be out of this cell so fast it will make your head spin."  
  
  
Sydney actually giggled at that, and Will felt his heart warm even more. He was so relieved that he could make her feel better with a little bit of humor—even if it wasn't completely intended—in such undesirable circumstances. He thought back to the airport earlier that day, when he had greeted her with a simple "Hey;" that had made her laugh and lightened the mood for both of them.  
  
  
"Thank; you," Sydney finally said, touching his cheek with her palm and smiling at him.  
  
  
Will nodded and returned the smile. The smile turned into a full-fledged grin when he saw Sydney's smile broaden. Was it possible to have all of one's problems seemingly disappear when someone you loved and cared about smiled at you? If he hadn't already, Will was definitely beginning to think so as he pulled Sydney into his arms for one last hug before he would have to leave her for a while.  
  
  
When he pulled back, Sydney was still smiling. He kissed her forehead. "I;'ll see you soon," he whispered.  
  
  
"Okay;," Sydney whispered back.  
  
  
Will gave her a small smile and turned to leave.  
  
  
"Wait;," Sydney said, trying to sound sure of herself, but her voice was laced with apprehension. She bit her lip, trying to think of the best way to say what she wanted to say. She decided there wasn't. The only way she could get her point across was to do what Will had done. She couldn't think of any way to say that she was so incredibly grateful to have him helping her, to have him promising her he would get her out of here. The "thank; you" she had said earlier didn't cover the bases that needed to be covered. It had just been a simple statement that may have had some definite meaning behind it—and of course Sydney knew that it did—but Will had no way of knowing just how much she had intended to inject into the words.  
  
  
So, she took a couple of steps forward and framed Will's face with her hands as she tilted his head down and pressed her lips to his. She did the same thing he did—made the kiss soft, gentle, and brief—just long enough to get the point across.  
  
  
Suddenly that seemed strange to her—"getting; the point across." Was her point just what she had believed it had been—emphasizing her "thank; you"? Or was she starting to feel something new towards Will? If she was, she knew there was nothing wrong with it, but the idea that her friendship might be ruined if something happened between them scared her.  
  
  
She couldn't lose Will.  
  
  
She couldn't lose him as a friend for any reason. She needed him right now, probably more than he knew. She sighed a bit, having long pulled back and watched Will leave her. She wasn't sure what she felt. She had been so confused with everything that had happened, she had no idea exactly what was going on.  
  
  
She sat back down on the cot, reviewing her conversation with Will. She decided that no matter how clogged her mind was with everything that had happened in less than a day, there was no denying that she felt something for Will that was beyond the simple, caring friendship that she had had with him for so many years. She wasn't sure exactly what had triggered the feelings, whether it was being lonely and afraid, reaching out blindly for guidance, or if what had happened had stirred dormant emotions in her that she wasn't even aware of when she saw Will at the airport.  
  
  
She decided she didn't care. Why did it matter what had caused her to feel something for someone she had already cared about deeply? _It doesn't,_ she told herself, _it doesn't matter *how* something happens so much as what the something is.  
  
_  
She smiled to herself and recalled the exam with Dr. Moore when she said she didn't have much of a life and that she was better off dead. She realized now that she had something for which she could live, something to which she could look forward.  
  
  
She curled up on the cot, her last thought before slumber encompassed her being a cliché that fit ironically well—  
  
  
Every cloud has a silver lining.  
  
  
**A/N:** No, no! Don't run away! I can already guess that some of you who aren't S/W shippers or just happen to hate the idea of S/W are probably about to give up on this story. I sincerely hope that I could be wrong on that, but I'm pretty sure I'm not. So, I'll say this, yes, there *might* be some S/W romance. But, I can tell you right now that it's not going to be sappy in terms of Sydney finally getting out and running into Will's arms and the two have the most passionate kiss ever. If it happens, it will be slow, and there will be bumps along the way. What kind of bumps, you ask? Well, how about a love triangle?;) Yes, I'm planning some sort of triangle involving Syd, Will, and some other dude, but I'm not sure who it'll be yet guesses are welcome though;) So, what I'm saying is, don't be turned off by the possibility of S/W because I have soooo much up my sleeve that, as Will might put it, "it; will make your head spin." ;)


	9. Debrief

**Nine  
  
Debrief  
  
  
  
**

_You never know what you have until it's gone,_ Sydney thought as she roused herself from sleep later that day. She had decided that she missed much more than being at home, living as simple a life as her occupation would allow.  
  
  
She missed her freedom.  
  
  
She looked around the cell, a ten-by-ten space, if that, and wrapped her arms around herself. She couldn't remember ever feeling more trapped. All of the situations in which she had been in the past seemed trivial compared to what she was faced with now. In those times, her freedom was rescinded by an enemy. Now, her freedom had been rescinded by the people she trusted the most.  
  
  
She couldn't put into words how much it hurt to be betrayed by the people she cared for the most. She just knew it was worse than any physical pain she had ever felt or ever thought she would feel. She sighed heavily and leaned back against the wall of the cell, staring up at the ceiling. She rubbed her eyes and laid her hands in her lap as she felt herself succumbing to sleep again.  
  
  
  
  
Will stood in the rotunda, watching Sydney on the monitor. He had been under fire earlier for going into her cell to talk to her when he had been instructed not to, and was now trying to figure out a way to tell her about the debrief she had in a little while. Kendall had told him that since he had basically screwed up, he should be the one to go tell her about the debrief. Will considered arguing that Sydney would get the wrong idea if she saw him again, especially so soon. He feared she would think that it was all over and that she could finally go home.  
  
  
He raked a hand through his hair and stared at the monitor. Sydney had apparently given up on falling asleep again and was now simply sitting on the cot, staring up at the camera, looking directly into the lens. The sight of that made Will feel as if Sydney's eyes were on him. Tentatively, he reached a hand to the monitor and pressed the side of his index finger against the part of the screen where the image of Sydney's cheek was imprinted.  
  
  
His eyes softened. He hated this. He hated what Sydney was having to be put through for the CIA's amusement. He drew his hand back and stuffed both of his hands into his pants pockets. He was about to go retrieve Sydney to take her to where she would be debriefed when someone walked up to him and stood at his side.  
  
  
"Jack;," Will said aloud, acknowledging the man's presence.  
  
  
Jack skipped the pleasantries and said, "I; know that seeing Sydney locked up when it's obvious that she has done nothing wrong is hard for you. It's hard for me, too."  
  
  
Will nodded solemnly, touched by Jack's display of emotion.  
  
  
"I; just wanted to tell you that I admire what you did earlier—going behind Kendall's back to provide Sydney with some comfort," Jack said in that soft yet somehow firm voice that he used whenever he was parting with some words that he was a bit embarrassed to let go.  
  
  
Will nodded again. "Thank; you."  
  
  
Jack remained silent after that, and for a few moments he just watched Sydney on the monitor. It took a great deal of his strength to not just charge down to the cell and set Sydney free. He knew he couldn't do that, as much as he wanted to do so. Although, deep down, he knew he *could* do it. But, if he did, it would sacrifice both his and Sydney's careers and perhaps even put them both under suspicion of treason. So, he was forced to endure the ridiculous protocol the CIA had before he could get Sydney out. He cleared his throat a bit and spoke.  
  
  
"I; think I should be the one to tell Sydney about the debrief."  
  
  
Will cast a sidelong glance at Jack. "That;'s fine."  
  
  
"Good;," Jack said. He stared at the monitor for a moment longer before laying a hand briefly on Will's shoulder then walking away.  
  
  
  
  
Sydney groaned and leaned back against the wall again, the back of her head hitting it with a resounding thud. Pain immediately surged into her temples but she ignored it and instead crossed her arms over her chest and closed her eyes, hoping she may fall asleep again.  
  
  
She wouldn't have that chance.  
  
  
Sydney heard footsteps coming down the hall. She thought she recognized them, as they seemed to be heavy, slow, and even a bit methodical in their rhythm. She guessed it was her father, but tensed at the fact that it might be someone else—someone new. She was afraid of what more had to be done. Will mentioned there were a few more things to do before she could leave, but he hadn't said what they were.  
  
  
_Maybe that's a good thing,_ Sydney decided, struggling to contain the shivers that coursed through her. She could only imagine what torture techniques the CIA had up its sleeve.  
  
  
She thought back to what Will had said to her when they had been talking in the safehouse in Los Angeles after he had been rescued in Paris about three years before.  
  
  
_"Syd;, I don't love you because of what you do, or what you don't do—I just love you."  
  
_  
Tears sprang to her eyes at the memory. Her heart had melted and tears had fallen freely down her cheeks when he had said that. She hadn't truly realized the depth of those words until now. But, now that she did, that realization alone would get her through.  
  
  
The footsteps drew closer and Sydney wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Finally, the person stopped and Sydney looked over to see who it was. Her suspicions were confirmed—it was her father. He looked stoic as ever as he unlocked the door to the cell with the key he had. Sydney stood up on shaky legs and walked over to him. She looked up at him as he looked down at her.  
  
  
Sydney ignored the painful irony.  
  
  
Jack stood there, surveying his daughter. It hurt him to see her like this—helpless and alone—after she had already been through so much. He resisted the urge to embrace her as Will had earlier. The longer he stood there though, the stronger the urge became to just hold her tight. So, he decided to speak. Get things over with quickly—like ripping off a bandaid. Sydney beat him to it, though, and the vulnerable look in her eyes along with what she said threatened to rip Jack apart.  
  
  
"Daddy;?"  
  
  
It was the second time that day that she had said it to him. Somehow, though, he managed to defy the impulse to hug her. "Sydney;, I'm going to escort you to the room where you will be debriefed."  
  
  
Sydney's eyes were full of tears again but she forced herself to nod. Jack led the way out of the room, pausing until Sydney was standing beside him. He pulled the door to the cell shut and locked it, then he and Sydney walked down the hall together, their steps in sync. Sydney sighed a bit and tentatively grasped her father's hand. She feared he would shake off her hold harshly, maybe even bark some reprimand in her ear, but she didn't care. At the very least though, she found herself caring enough to at least hope that her father may let her hold onto his hand.  
  
  
He did more than that.  
  
  
Jack squeezed her hand tightly, but not tightly enough to break any bones. His grip was just firm enough to show Sydney that he couldn't do anything else at the moment, much as he wanted to do so. He saw Sydney glance up at him out of the corner of his eye and thought he could make out something of a smile on her lips. Knowing that looking at her would be suicide (in the most metaphorical way possible), he continued staring straight ahead, but allowed the smallest of smiles to grace his features.  
  
  
Sydney's grip on his hand tightened.  
  
  
  
  
When they reached the room, Sydney reluctantly released her father's hand and permitted the technicians to strap her into the chair and hook her up to the polygraph machine. After that task had been completed and the technicians had left the room, Sydney glanced around. There was a huge mirror about fifteen feet in front of her and she knew that hoards of people were watching from behind it.  
  
  
Another few minutes ticked by and Sydney found herself growing nervous. She was sweating a bit and her heart was pounding loudly in her chest. The silence in the room was deafening and when Sydney let out a sigh, she heard it echo off the walls. She winced at the darkness that surrounded her as she looked around again and hoped that someone would be along soon to flip on the lights.  
  
  
It seemed irony was everywhere that day.  
  
  
After what seemed like an eternity—and Sydney wondering if an eternity had a true scientifically determined time limit—someone entered the room.  
  
  
"Dr.; Moore!" Sydney gasped, unable to mask her surprise.  
  
  
"Happy; to see me?" Moore replied with a smirk.  
  
  
Sydney frowned. "Are; you the CIA's all-purpose employee or something?"  
  
  
Moore shot her a grin. "If; you can be, I can too."  
  
  
Sydney sighed.  
  
  
Moore took her seat at the table near the chair Sydney was currently strapped to and smiled again. "Let;'s begin."  
  
  
"It;'s not as if I have a choice in the matter," Sydney muttered.  
  
  
Ignoring Sydney's words, Moore said, "Please; state your full name."  
  
  
Sydney scoffed. "You; must be kidding."  
  
  
"I; assure you, I am not," Moore said patiently, and Sydney figured that Moore somehow sensed her annoyance.  
  
  
Sighing, Sydney said blandly, "Sydney; Aurora Bristow."  
  
  
"Date; of birth?" Moore asked, observing the lines on the sheet made by the polygraph and jotting down a few notes.  
  
  
"Jesus;," Sydney mumbled under her breath. Not wanting to be prodded by Moore, she replied curtly, "The; seventeenth day of April of the year nineteen hundred seventy-five."  
  
  
Moore was unamused by the way Sydney had posed her response, but neglected to comment. "Where; were you born?"  
  
  
Sydney fumed. "Christ;, Dr. Moore, I don't have amnesia! Why are you asking me these types of questions?"  
  
  
"Fine;," Moore ceded, "we;'ll skip *those* types of questions."  
  
  
"Thank; you," Sydney said in an exasperated tone.  
  
  
"Who; was the last person with whom you had intimate relations?" Moore asked pointedly, smirking at Sydney when she blanched.  
  
  
Swallowing the lump that had risen in her throat, Sydney choked out, "Why; is that anyone's business?"  
  
  
"Trust; me, Ms. Bristow," Moore began, "it; is all relevant."  
  
  
"I; don't see how," Sydney blurted.  
  
  
"Just; answer the question, please," Moore said. "The; sooner you do, the sooner we can move on, and the closer you will be to your freedom."  
  
  
Sydney's heart lurched. Freedom. *Her* freedom. The seemingly unattainable goal she had had since she had been locked in the cell. She wouldn't let Moore get off this easy, however. "I; have a question."  
  
  
"Ms.; Bristow, you are not permitted to—"  
  
  
Sydney cut her off by saying, "Just; how many people are watching this from behind the glass?"  
  
  
Smirking again, Moore replied, "The; sheer number would frighten you beyond reason."  
  
  
Sydney narrowed her eyes. "Try; me."  
  
  
"Sixty-three.;"  
  
  
Sydney swallowed hard and tried her best to appear undaunted by the revelation.  
  
  
"So;," Moore started, pleased to once again have the upper hand, "who; was the last person with whom you had intimate relations?"  
  
  
"Michael; Vaughn," Sydney answered without hesitation. She wasn't about to let Moore have the satisfaction of watching her flail about hopelessly for some way to skirt the issue.  
  
  
"Hm;," Moore wondered aloud, making some more notes.  
  
  
"Christ;, now what?" Sydney demanded.  
  
  
Moore looked up and smiled. "Nothing.;"  
  
  
Sydney considered pressing further, but decided against it, remembering how her curiosity had gotten her in trouble earlier that day.  
  
  
"Now;, while you were gone," Moore continued, "were; you recruited by any other organizations?"  
  
  
Sydney sighed a little and shrugged her shoulders. "Honestly;, I have no clue, because my last memory was fighting Allison Doren before I woke up to find myself in Hong Kong and discover from Vaughn that two years had passed since that fight."  
  
  
Moore raised an eyebrow at Sydney. "Is; that the pure, honest truth?"  
  
  
"Yes;," Sydney replied, locking her gaze onto Moore's.  
  
  
Moore lifted her chin. "Then; I guess we're through here."  
  
  
**A/N: **Yaaaay!!! But is it over? 'Course not! Muahaha But she'll be free soon enough A note about the romance: I'm going to have (when I finally get to it), a love triangle, as I said, and it's going to serve as something of a backdrop as I explore the stuff I really want to explore (you guys haven't forgotten that "oval; object" yet, have you?;x). Anyways, that's it for the first part of this two-part update (yes, I am posting two chapters at once this was originally a 4000-word chapter, but I decided to split it up;x). Wait, one more thing. I have no *clue* what Sydney's middle name is. I've heard theories, but nothing has been confirmed—at least as far as I know. I used "Aurora;" in my fic _Unexpected_ because I thought it fit her well (Aurora is the Roman goddess of dawn) and I figured I'd use it here also.


	10. Freedom

**Ten  
  
Freedom  
  
  
  
**

Following the insanely brief debrief, Sydney was back in the cell, stretched out on the cot. Victory was so close that it sent tingling feelings throughout her body. A few minutes passed and Sydney heard several sets of footsteps coming towards the cell. _This is it,_ she told herself, _I'm free.  
  
_  
Sydney sat up and ran a hand through her hair before the people stopped in front of the cell. Her heart sank when she saw that it was just a group of guards. One of the guards stepped forward and opened the cell.  
  
  
"Come; with us," he said after he had opened the door.  
  
  
Shivering, Sydney wrapped her arms around herself as she stood and left the cell for the millionth time that day. A couple of the guards stayed behind her while the other stayed ahead of her.  
  
  
Sydney was led to a small area in a large room with tiled walls and a tiled floor. There was a drain in the floor and a showerhead on the wall. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to convince herself that she was not going to be exposed in front of people she wasn't familiar with for the third time that day. The guard who had unlocked the door spoke loudly.  
  
  
"Get; undressed, leave your clothes on the floor, then step under the showerhead and the water will come on automatically."  
  
  
Sydney looked the guard in the eye as she said, "I;'m guessing I'll be watched during this whole process."  
  
  
"Your; guess would be correct," the guard replied curtly, but a wave of sympathy passed over his face and Sydney felt a bit relieved that the guards were just doing their job rather than jumping at the chance to see a woman stripped of everything save a thin shred of dignity.  
  
  
Sydney nodded meekly and undressed silently, her gaze focused on the floor. She tossed everything in a pile on the floor as the guard had instructed, then made her way over to the showerhead. Fearing the worst, that the water may be freezing, she crossed her arms over her chest to spare herself the brunt of it.  
  
  
As she expected, when the water was turned on, it was cold. She still gasped in surprise, and couldn't stop herself from moving to the side, away from the brutally chilling assault.  
  
  
"It;'ll warm up in a minute," one of the guards told her, and Sydney bit back the urge to tell him to fuck off—or something less direct. Either way, if they *had* to watch her, they could at least be quiet so that Sydney could perhaps pretend that they weren't really there.  
  
  
Sydney tentatively reached a hand under the water and found that it was at least a tad lukewarm. She stood underneath the showerhead again, a soft sigh escaping her lips as the water beat down her back. She tilted her head back and the water coursed down her shoulders, arms, chest, and legs.  
  
  
The guards *had* to be enjoying this on some level.  
  
  
Sydney lifted her arms, knowing full well what else was being lifted in the process, and combed her hands through her hair. She sincerely hoped that the hard water might aid in removing some of the grease in her hair as well as the sweat and grime on her body.  
  
  
One of the guards spoke, and when he did, he was stammering worse than Marshall on a particularly stressful day. "Um;, would you—uh—would you like some—er—uh—some soap?"  
  
  
Sydney couldn't help it. She grinned broadly as she turned towards the guard who had addressed her. "Sure.;"  
  
  
"Okay;, well—uh—I have some—um—here—somewhere. Hold on." The guard began to search his pockets when the more articulate first guard who had been the one to open the cell door produced a still-wrapped bar of soap from his own pocket.  
  
  
Sydney fully expected the guard to unwrap the soap and walk it over to her, but he merely stood with the package in his outstretched hand. Masking her disapproval of the guard's lack of manners, Sydney let her hands drop to her sides and sauntered over to him. She stood electrifyingly close to him and purposely brushed his palm with her fingers as she grasped the wrapped bar of soap. As coyly as she could, she opened the thin cardboard box in which the soap resided and seductively placed her empty palm under the opening of the box and let the soap slide onto it. She dropped the empty box into the guard's hand and ran a finger along his palm.  
  
  
Sydney swore the guard took a sharp inhalation of breath.  
  
  
"Thank; you," she told him, batting her eyelashes and giving him a coquettish smile.  
  
  
"You;'re welcome," the guard replied, his response a bit breathy.  
  
  
Sydney reveled in the momentary victory and nearly sashayed back to the shower. She let the water beat down on her for a few moments, simultaneously creating a wet environment for the soap to lather up and letting the guards prepare themselves for what they knew was coming. Sighing softly, Sydney began washing up.  
  
  
This, of course, produced more sharp intakes of breath.  
  
  
  
  
"Shampoo;?" the stuttering guard offered after Sydney was done with the soap, approximately half an hour of sharp intakes of breath later.  
  
  
"Please;," was Sydney's reply.  
  
  
The stuttering guard produced a bottle from the pocket on the inside of his jacket and walked over to Sydney to hand it to her. Sydney thanked him and washed her hair quickly, not wanting to leave her arms raised longer than she absolutely had to do so.  
  
  
When she was finished, she looked over at the guards, pouted, and asked, "Do; you have a towel I could use?"  
  
  
One of the guards had his hands behind his back and quickly brought them in front of him. In his hands, was a towel. He tossed it to Sydney who used it to pat herself dry and, of course, merit some more sharp inhalations from the guards. When she was through, she wrapped it around herself, mindful that it didn't cover much, and pranced over to the guards.  
  
  
The articulate guard spoke. "We;'ll lead you to some clean clothes and you can get dressed."  
  
  
Sydney perked up considerably. She felt as if she were a starving waif who had been invited to a feast.  
  
  
"After; that, you'll be escorted back to your cell."  
  
  
Sydney glanced down at the ground, her shoulders slumping a bit. "I; knew there had to be a catch."  
  
  
"Isn;'t there always?" the guard said with a smirk.  
  
  
Sydney looked up at him and held his gaze. "No;," she said finally, "Some; people just have more bad luck than others."  
  
  
"In; that regard," he began, "today; must be your lucky day."  
  
  
"Thank; you," Sydney started, prepared to launch a clever retort, "for; having a *shred* of humanity." With that, she started walking after the other guards who had already begun heading to the room with the clothes.  
  
  
The articulate guard struggled to find something to fight back with, but he realized that he had gone too far with what he had said. As he joined the others, he tried to imagine what Sydney must have been going through, and felt more awful than he already did.  
  
  
"Listen;," he called to her as she kept walking, "I; apologize for what I said. It was out of line and I'm sorry I said it."  
  
  
Sydney didn't answer right away as she listened to the other guards snickering. After a moment, she said, "We;'ve all done the foot-in-mouth thing. But only some of us actually realize we've gone too far, and very few of those people will acknowledge their mistake."  
  
  
The guard had obviously expected something along the lines of "It;'s fine," or "Apology; accepted." Having received neither one, he sighed heavily and sulked a bit.  
  
  
Sydney grinned.  
  
  
  
  
They arrived at the room with the clothes and Sydney dressed hurriedly under the watchful eyes of the guards. She used the towel to help dry her hair a bit, then followed the guards back to her cell. She sat down on the cot and watched all but one of the guards leave. The one who stayed hadn't said a word during the whole charade. Sydney raised an eyebrow pointedly at him.  
  
  
"I; just wanted to say that I really did not enjoy what happened a little while ago," he told her.  
  
  
"You; didn't?" Sydney asked, suppressing a giggle. "Honey;, you're making me feel bad."  
  
  
The guard's eyes widened, then a smile spread across his face as he understood what she meant. "What; I was trying to say was that I didn't enjoy the fact that we had to—well—chaperone you through all of that and weren't able to give you any privacy."  
  
  
Sydney nodded approvingly. "Good;, because you would have made me feel self-conscious for the next time I have to strip in front of someone." She winked at him.  
  
  
The guard smiled again. "You; won't have to."  
  
  
Sydney raised an eyebrow again.  
  
  
The guard struggled to explain himself while Sydney hid a grin. "I; mean, you won't have to do it *here*—you're leaving sometime later tonight."  
  
  
"I; am?" Sydney asked in surprise, feeling her eyes fill with tears.  
  
  
The guard simply nodded, then walked off down the hall. Sydney didn't stop the waterfall of tears that rushed down her cheeks. She was finally getting out of here.  
  
  
"Freedom;," she said aloud. She realized what a precious commodity it was and now it was within her reach. She flopped back on the cot, looking up at the ceiling.  
  
  
_Freedom.  
  
_  
  
  
Sydney was sleeping when Kendall arrived. He told himself he wasn't going to feel a bit of sympathy towards her because he really wasn't that kind of person. But, seeing her curled up into a ball and sleeping peacefully, Kendall realized that retaining his typical demeanor would be impossible.  
  
  
He unlocked the door to the cell and Sydney sat up almost instantly. The fact that she couldn't sleep soundly because of the conditions she was currently having to endure actually pained him a bit. Here was the best agent the CIA had ever had being treated horribly. He sighed a little, his own eyes softening as he gazed into Sydney's bright, dark amber eyes. He sat down beside her on the cot after closing the cell door.  
  
  
Sydney wasn't sure how to act. Kendall had always been a hard-ass and yet here he was, sitting next to her, and actually appearing to look regretful of everything that had taken place. She folded her hands in her lap and stared straight ahead, waiting for him to speak.  
  
  
Kendall cleared his throat a bit and said, "I; just wanted to tell you personally that you've been cleared of any suspicion involving you being a part of an enemy organization."  
  
  
Sydney scoffed. "It;'s about time."  
  
  
Kendall chuckled and Sydney instantly felt comfortable. "Your; father, Mr. Tippin, and Agent Vaughn are waiting for you in the rotunda."  
  
  
"Okay;," Sydney said.  
  
  
"Shall; we go?" Kendall asked as he stood up.  
  
  
A grin spread across Sydney's face. "We; shall."  
  
  
Kendall opened the door of the cell and walked out into the hall. Sydney followed him and they walked side-by-side. They rounded the corner that led to the rotunda and Sydney stopped short at the scene in front of her.  
  
  
"What; the"  
  
  
**A/N:** Oooo Guesses? Hehe. Okay people, I have finals coming up in another week (next week is Dead Week), and I also have two mega-massive (to use my French teacher's term) projects for AP US History and AP Chem to do. One's worth 300 points, the other 200, so uh I'll have to take this weekend off in terms of writing fanfiction, so I hope you enjoyed these two chapters;x Oh, and don't forget to review;) Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far!


	11. Recommencement

**Eleven  
  
Recommencement  
  
  
  
**

Sydney drew in a shaky breath as she surveyed the rotunda. There were scores of people with smiles on their faces and everyone had broken out in applause. Her father, Will, and Vaughn were standing in front of all the other people. She recognized Marshall, Dixon, and Weiss, and vaguely recognized the nameless faces of the people she encountered every day whenever she walked through the building.  
  
  
Another glance around afforded Sydney with a good look at a banner that read "Welcome; home Sydney!" in large block letters. She also spotted a large cake on a nearby table as well as an assortment of refreshments on various other tables.  
  
  
Sydney realized she must have been frowning because all of the people that had been staring at her, clapping wildly and sporting huge grins were now almost dead silent and looking apprehensive. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Sydney put on her best fake smile and hoped it looked believable. Her insides churned. _How dare they,_ she thought venomously, _how dare they throw me a "welcome; home" party when they had me locked up for the past eighteen hours?_ She decided to let it slide. Perhaps they had been planning something like this for ages and when it had gotten to be such a lengthy amount of time that she had been absent, they realized that a debrief to be sure that she wasn't disloyal had to be thrown into the mix, disrupting a normal celebration.  
  
  
Either way, she needed an opportunity to relax and get reacquainted with the people from whom she had been separated. She couldn't let anyone down by blowing up at Kendall, her father, Will, Vaughn, and everyone else for being hypocrites and then storming out, leaving a sea of shocked faces. It wouldn't be fair to the people who had missed her and had undoubtedly given up hope that she would ever return.  
  
  
So, with a quick glance at Kendall, she replaced her phony smile with a genuine one and strode towards the people that were eagerly awaiting her return.  
  
  
  
  
Sydney made it through the reunions with her fellow co-workers, giving people hugs and offering words of encouragement when they got close to breaking down right in front of her. Dixon hugged her tight and spoke in a voice that broke Sydney's heart with its sincerity. Marshall stuttered as always and wrapped Sydney in a fierce hug as he attempted to explain everything he had accomplished in the past two years in terms of technological advances. Jack came forward to lay a hand on his shoulder in such a way that said enough was enough. Weiss greeted Sydney with a hug and whispered a joke in her ear about how most everyone in the office couldn't find their rears with both hands since she had been gone.  
  
  
After the pleasantries, Will commanded everyone's attention for a toast. Everyone was silent as he spoke and everyone stared at Sydney who felt self-conscious having so many eyes on her. She listened to what Will said, feeling tears creep into her eyes. She hadn't been fully aware that she had had such a lasting effect on everyone in the office. Instead of feeling honored, though, Sydney almost felt like she had a responsibility to which she had to live up. She felt as if the slightest mistake she made would send her co-workers into a downward spiral having seen the person they had looked up to not completely live up to the image they had created.  
  
  
Luckily, the toast was over before Sydney could think about it too much, and everyone bustled about the rotunda, snatching up a drink here, a cookie there. Sydney weaved through the crowd, grateful that none of the nameless employees stopped to bother her. She heaved a sigh of relief upon reaching a table that wasn't surrounded by people.  
  
  
There was definitely such thing as too much human interaction.  
  
  
Sydney ran a hand through her hair and picked up a plastic cup into which she ladled some punch from a nearby bowl. She lifted the cup to her lips, suddenly voraciously thirsty as she realized she hadn't had anything to drink all day. She was about to take a sip when an accented voice beside her nearly caused her to drop the cup.  
  
  
"I; do hope that you asked someone about the contents of the punch before you decided to dive into it. You can never trust what people might put into something like that."  
  
  
"Sark;," Sydney mumbled. She was at a complete loss for words. She had so many questions and almost no clue how to ask them without gripping Sark's throat and slamming him onto the table.  
  
  
"I;'m pleased that you haven't forgotten me," Sark said dryly, his lips twisting into a smirk.  
  
  
"Do; you honestly think anyone could ever forget you?" Sydney said in as calm and smooth tone as she could, casually taking a drink of her punch.  
  
  
Sark turned towards her, still wearing a smirk, but inside he felt something lurch. Things with Sydney hadn't changed one bit. He hadn't seen her in two years and she was still exactly how he remembered her—sarcastic and bitchy. He recalled their verbal sparring matches clear as day and decided he wouldn't let her get the best of him even after everything she had endured. He may have started the game but she could have ended it and he would have tried his best to be civil with her. But, it was clear to him that she wasn't about to let him win just because she had something of a handicap.  
  
  
"It;'s nice to know that I'll always be remembered," he retorted, and considered ending his sentence there until Sydney opened her mouth, prepared to deliver a retort right back at him, "one; way or another."  
  
  
Sydney had to give him credit. If he hadn't caught her about to fling an insult at him, he wouldn't have been able to pounce on what he figured she would say. The momentary appreciation Sydney had for Sark's quip faded as Sydney realized that she needed answers. She found herself furious that Kendall or someone else hadn't informed her that Sark was apparently working for the CIA now. She had to deal with an awkward meeting at a party that she felt should never have taken place. Not only did she feel nervous at the idea of so many people having missed her, there was the simple fact that Sydney didn't believe she was worthy of such a fiasco. She knew she was good at what she did, and when she had disappeared, suddenly things seemed to fall apart, but still—she didn't think she was deserving. Also, why had things fallen apart? Surely she couldn't have been the glue holding the entire Agency together—that made the organization look incapable and also dropped a huge burden onto her shoulders.  
  
  
Apparently she really *did* have an image to which she had to live up.  
  
  
After taking another drink and slipping a hand into her pants pocket, Sydney asked, "So; how in the hell did you end up working for us?"  
  
  
A smirk crossed Sark's lips and Sydney felt compelled to wipe it off his face, but managed to refrain from doing so. "If; my memory serves," Sark began, "the; last time you and I were breathing the same air was in the club in Sweden."  
  
  
Sydney narrowed her eyes, trying to figure out where this was going or if Sark just planned to take the long route of explaining his employment by the CIA. "Yes;," she offered when he gave her an almost blank look, purposely wanting her to confirm what he was saying.  
  
  
Sark rubbed his chin thoughtfully and Sydney realized that he had the beginnings of a goatee. She found herself thinking that he looked better when he was clean-shaven, then mentally slapped herself for caring.  
  
  
"Yes;, the club," Sark said again, nodding, "the; club where Agent Vaughn slammed my head on the bar."  
  
  
"Pity; you don't have any scars from the incident," Sydney tossed out casually, suppressing the urge to smirk wickedly.  
  
  
Sark pursed his lips and the blue of his eyes suddenly seemed all the more intense as he replied, "Indeed.;"  
  
  
Sydney gave herself another mental slap for coming to the realization that Sark's eyes had the most gorgeous hue of blue. She wondered why she was noticing this sort of thing about Sark. _I mean, it's *Sark* for Christ's sake,_ she thought, _a man who has caused an ungodly amount of pain and suffering._ She sighed a bit. Maybe things were different now. Maybe the door had shut on the past he once led and a new door had opened which allowed him the chance to start over on the right path.  
  
  
Despite what Sark had done, Sydney knew she couldn't hold it over his head forever. They had been on opposite sides and causing pain and suffering was expected. _All is fair in love and war,_ Sydney thought wryly.  
  
  
"Since; we're going to be working together it might serve you well to hide your repulsion of me," Sark said, snapping Sydney out of her thoughts and plucking a chocolate-chip cookie from the plate on the table and taking a bite out of it.  
  
  
Sydney was momentarily dazed as she hadn't expected Sark to speak again so soon, or say something like what he had just said. She recovered though, careful to keep her sardonic attitude in place. "I; am."  
  
  
Sark didn't respond, only took another bite of his cookie. Sydney brought her cup to her lips, making it seem as if she were going to take a sip but instead used the cup to hide her grin.  
  
  
"So;," Sydney began, lowering her cup, "you; were supposedly explaining how you ended up working here."  
  
  
"Right;," Sark said, and Sydney swore he sounded a bit flustered. "I;'m sure you remember after that, I was captured and brought here to sit in that horrid cell."  
  
  
"Uh; huh," Sydney prodded.  
  
  
"The; long and short of it is that for the next several months, I assisted in helping to find Sloane and Irina and attempting to cease the actions of both."  
  
  
"Did; you succeed?" Sydney asked, sipping her punch.  
  
  
"Somewhat;," Sark replied.  
  
  
Sydney raised an eyebrow at him and he smirked. Sydney ignored the smirk and said, "Define; 'somewhat.'"  
  
  
"I; succeeded in disrupting Sloane's plans for using The Telling on an unsuspecting group of people, but failed to acquire the machine," Sark explained.  
  
  
"What; about my mother? What's the 'somewhat' in terms of her?" Sydney questioned.  
  
  
Sark shrugged. "I; wasn't able to locate her, even given the places I figured she would be."  
  
  
"How; exactly did you become an employee here, though? Were you offered immunity for your cooperation?"  
  
  
"Better; than that. In exchange for my continued assistance, any charges that would have been filed against me were completely dropped." Sydney's eyes widened and Sark grinned. "It;'s like I'm starting with a clean slate."  
  
  
"I;'m floored—" Sydney began, and Sark interrupted her.  
  
  
"Thank; you."  
  
  
"—by how easily this institution can be fooled."  
  
  
Sark tilted his head to one side. "Care; to elaborate?"  
  
  
"Sark;, it's obvious there is more to you than meets the eye. On the surface, you might seem as if you can be molded into an upstanding citizen. You just have that—look. On the inside, it's clear that you're very skilled at deception. The CIA can believe what it wants. It can believe what's on the surface. As for me, I know that you're planning something. I know that you will deceive us. I don't know how or when, but I know that you will." She took a final sip from her punch and tossed the cup into a wastebasket and gave Sark a shrug. "Like; it or not, some things never change." She spun on her heel and began to walk away from him.  
  
  
"I; guess they don't," Sark said calmly.  
  
  
Sydney stopped in her tracks and turned back around. She walked back over to Sark, narrowing her eyes at him when he took another bite of his cookie. "What; is that supposed to mean?"  
  
  
"You; were never very trusting, were you?"  
  
  
Sydney scoffed. "You; expect me to be trusting of people when I've been betrayed more times than Joan Rivers has had facelifts?"  
  
  
Sark chuckled and Sydney blushed, smiling a bit. "I; have to admit, that was very good," Sark told her, grinning.  
  
  
"I; got off-topic," Sydney said, a bit frustrated with herself, but also finding that she was pleasantly surprised by the fact that Sark knew how to laugh.  
  
  
"Fine; by me," Sark said with a shrug, finishing off the cookie.  
  
  
Sydney smirked, her attention suddenly consumed by the cookie Sark had just finished. "It; took you ten minutes to eat that thing."  
  
  
"I; was too busy conversing with you to focus my full attention on my food," Sark said defensively, but plastering a bit of a smile on his face.  
  
  
"True;," Sydney agreed.  
  
  
"I; think we should start over," Sark said abruptly.  
  
  
"What; do you mean start—" Sydney was silenced when Sark held out his hand. Reluctantly, Sydney shook it. After a moment, they released hands and Sydney quipped, "Speaking; of starting over, I think you should really rethink that goatee."  
  
  
"You; think so?" Sark asked, rubbing his chin. "I; decided to try something new, but I guess that was a bad choice."  
  
  
"It; certainly was," Sydney said with a nod.  
  
  
"Well;, aren't you full of verbal barbs tonight?"  
  
  
Sydney lifted her chin in a defiant air. "I; have little tolerance for—"  
  
  
"—people like me," Sark finished. "Well;, I better be off. Welcome back, Sydney." He walked past her, his shoulder brushing hers.  
  
  
Sydney considered going after him. Despite the fact that she basically detested him, he actually wasn't too bad of a conversationalist. Plus, gazing into his eyes, his oceans of blue, wasn't exactly what Sydney would call torture.  
  
  
Picking up a chocolate-chip cookie from the plate on the table, Sydney navigated her way to the cake.


	12. Home

**Twelve  
  
Home  
  
  
  
**

"I; ate too much," Sydney declared as Will put the rest of the cake into the backseat of the Honda Accord he had bought recently.  
  
  
"I; told you not to eat that third piece of cake, Syd," Will said with a laugh, opening Sydney's door and gesturing for her to get inside. Once she did, he shut the door and went around to the driver's side.  
  
  
"I; always wanted an Accord," Sydney said once Will was in the car.  
  
  
Will started the engine. "So; that's why you went out and bought a Prius, right?" he said, giving her a playful nudge with his elbow.  
  
  
Sydney nudged him back. "I; like Toyota."  
  
  
"They; make good cars," Will agreed, nodding.  
  
  
"What; is it with the American manufacturers?" Sydney asked. "They;'re completely incapable of making a car that doesn't end up having a load of problems."  
  
  
"I; really don't know," Will said thoughtfully, turning a corner onto an empty street. "But; you're right, American companies seem to have difficulties with that, whereas foreign cars are well-made."  
  
  
"This; country has problems with more than just cars, though," Sydney continued, "they; can't even assemble a worthy search team to locate a missing person."  
  
  
Will saw where this was going and decided he needed to put an end to it before Sydney spoiled her good mood with being bitter about the two years that had passed by right under her nose. "Syd;, come on," he coaxed, "don;'t do this."  
  
  
Sydney cast a glance at him to find his sapphire eyes boring into her dark amber ones. She turned away and looked out the windshield. "Sorry.;"  
  
  
Will took one hand off of the wheel and grasped Sydney's hand. "I; know this is going to take some time to get used to," he began, "but; if you blame the people you work with, you're not going to get anywhere. Believe me, we tried our damnedest to find you."  
  
  
Sydney took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  
  
  
"You;'re not someone we would give up on," Will said, "and; you're certainly someone who's difficult to live without."  
  
  
"Why;?" Sydney asked, turning her head to face him.  
  
  
Will lifted an eyebrow at her. "Syd;, I don't know how to describe it, but there's a feeling that you evoke in everyone you come into contact with. Every person who meets you will remember you forever because there's just something about you that makes you unforgettable."  
  
  
Sydney turned away, tears suddenly blurring her vision. She had had a taste of this at the party. She had gotten an idea of how she affected the people with whom she worked—she just had no clue how far it stretched. She was just a regular person—how could she come into someone's life for even a brief moment and still create a lasting impression?  
  
  
She inhaled sharply and cleared her throat, trying to fight back the tears. She looked down at Will's hand holding hers and glanced at his profile as he continued to drive. She squeezed his hand and lay her head on his shoulder for the rest of the journey.  
  
  
  
  
Will parked in front of Sydney's apartment where he had decided to stay since Sydney had disappeared. He just knew that she would be returning somehow, some way, and he wanted things to be as normal as possible for her. He didn't want her to have to get used to a new place.  
  
  
He cut the engine and turned his head slightly so he could look at her. Her head was still on his shoulder and she was holding his hand with both of hers. A part of him wanted to stay put, to let her sleep. She looked peaceful, and disturbing her would be difficult and would also arouse a great deal of questions. He was tired and wasn't prepared to answer whatever she planned on flinging at him.  
  
  
He sat there for a few minutes, studying her face in the darkness, listening to the soothing sound of her breathing. It was definitely something he could get used to, he realized. He nearly panicked when she stirred, but calmed down when he saw that she was just trying to get closer to him, moving her head a bit so that it made contact with Will's cheek. She tightened her hold on his hand as well and sighed softly.  
  
  
Will felt his heart ache.  
  
  
He turned his head a bit more and pressed his lips to the top of Sydney's head. He carefully reached his free hand around and ran it through her hair. He heard her sigh softly again and he felt a tingling spread through his body. It wasn't sexual, he decided, but it was something urgent, and he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He just knew that he ached all over and it was because of Sydney's proximity.  
  
  
He loved her and he wanted to tell her so, even though he knew that she already knew. He just wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her deeply, then hold her, and whisper into her ear over and over again how much he loved her, how much he missed her, and how much he wanted her to feel the same way. He didn't want to pressure her—he just needed to tell her. It wasn't exactly the greatest of circumstances, but he just needed to get it out before it ate him alive.  
  
  
Except for Sydney having lost two years without her knowledge and being incredibly confused about how it all came about and her temper having an incredibly short fuse, it seemed to be the right time. He almost laughed at how selfish the whole thing sounded. But the fact was that any other time he could have admitted his feelings to her, there was something to prevent him from doing so.  
  
  
The first being that she had been with Danny and had gotten engaged. The second was that Danny had been killed and Will knew that Sydney needed her distance (as did he). The third was that their drunken kiss had turned out to be a flop when he ended up kissing her sober. The fourth was that her job at SD-6 had caused her to be distant and untruthful and closed her off from any type of relationship. The fifth was Vaughn. He had learned through Francie that Sydney cared about Vaughn and intervening wouldn't be his place. The sixth was Francie. He enjoyed being with her the short time they were together and he certainly didn't consider her a burden in terms of wanting to build a relationship with Sydney, but as long as he was with her, there was no way he could be with Sydney. The seventh was Vaughn again, when he developed a relationship with Sydney after the take-down of SD-6. The eighth was this—the two years that he had spent lying awake at night, wondering where she was and if she was all right, and then suddenly having her back in his life.  
  
  
Except for Sydney needing to cope with what had happened, there were no obstacles. He could just tell her straight out how he felt and see how she responded. There weren't any excuses now, there was nothing that could be blamed. Either she felt something for him or she didn't, and Will needed to know what the answer was to that question.  
  
  
He decided he would wait, though. He didn't want to spring something like this on her so suddenly—it simply wasn't fair. An invisible fist closed around his heart and it hurt to breathe. He felt like he was being punished for waiting for the right time. He sighed a bit and kissed the top of Sydney's head again. At that moment, Sydney yawned and sat up a bit, looking around. She still held Will's hand in hers and showed no sign of wanting to let go. She looked over at Will and a smile spread across her lips, her dimples deepening.  
  
  
Will smiled back at her and was pleasantly surprised when her head dropped onto his shoulder again and she moved closer to him, her hold on his hand tightening. Sydney yawned again and Will chuckled a bit.  
  
  
"I; take it you're tired," he said, leaning his cheek against her hair.  
  
  
"I;'m just a little—" Sydney was cut off abruptly by a deep yawn, "—sleepy."  
  
  
Will kissed the top of Sydney's head and opened his door. "Let;'s go inside."  
  
  
"Okay;," Sydney replied drowsily, sitting up and yawning again. "Where; are we anyway?" She looked around and gasped before Will could reply. "You;—you stayed here? You didn't move? Why? Why would you stay? Why would you want the reminder?" she asked, the words pouring out of her mouth, and her voice becoming strained with the sobs she harbored in the back of her throat.  
  
  
"Sydney;," Will started, "I; knew you were coming back. I didn't want you to have to get used to a new place. I wanted things to be as normal as possible."  
  
  
Sydney nodded wordlessly and climbed out of the car. Will got out as well, then grabbed the leftover cake from the backseat and walked towards the door. Sydney followed him, her arms wrapped around herself because it was a cold night. After unlocking and opening the door, Will stepped back and let Sydney in first. Sydney thanked him with a nod and entered the apartment. She was relieved to find that the place didn't look much different than she remembered it.  
  
  
She paced the living room, noting the new coffee table and the new leather furniture. She missed her furniture, but she found that the leather added a nice touch. She looked around the kitchen and felt sorry for Will because she knew he was probably nervous that she might blow up at him about the changes. She also knew that he was seeking her approval in terms of the new things in the apartment that she liked.  
  
  
Sydney went back into the living room where Will was standing rooted to his place, holding the cake. She smiled at him and kissed his cheek, then took the cake from him and went back to the kitchen. She put the cake on the counter and gave the room a last glance before walking towards her room.  
  
  
Will wanted to follow her, but decided that she needed some space. He didn't want to crowd her and make her feel uncomfortable. She needed time to adjust and he obviously couldn't snap his fingers and make it happen. So he sat down on the couch and folded his hands in his lap.  
  
  
  
  
Sydney closed the door to her room, wanting some privacy. She stripped out of the clothes that the CIA had given her, then rifled through the drawers in her bureau, looking for a pair of pajamas. She found a pair, warm flannel, and pulled them on. She closed the drawer of the bureau and her hand hesitated on the handle of the middle drawer.  
  
  
_I meanokay, the backpack is getting a little ridiculous."  
  
  
"What; do you mean?"  
  
_  
_"The; middle drawer—it's yours."  
  
_  
Sydney swallowed and worked up her courage to open the drawer. It was empty, of course, and Sydney felt relief wash over her. She closed the drawer and climbed into bed. She plucked the book she remembered reading off of the bedside table, relieved to see that it hadn't been moved. She opened it up to where the bookmark lay, and began to read. She had barely read one sentence before her shoulders began to shake. She tried to shrug it off, tried to act like sitting in bed reading was a normal occurrence. In truth, Sydney knew it was, but she felt guilty doing it, she felt guilty doing something as mundane and ordinary as reading a book before she went to sleep. It seemed like she didn't deserve to have any piece of a normal existence after what had happened.  
  
  
She put her face in her hands as the force of a sob made her lurch forward and didn't attempt to stop the current of tears that ran down her cheeks. The realization that two years were gone was finally sinking into her brain and she couldn't deal with it, let alone truly grasp it. She sobbed into her hands, shaking her head from time to time, willing everything to be a dream that she could wake up from and see that everything was how it used to be and that two years hadn't slipped through her fingers.  
  
  
She heard the door open and felt deeply embarrassed that she had been crying so loud that Will had immediately gotten worried and come to see if she was all right. She looked up and saw him standing in the doorway, pain in his eyes. She could only imagine what it did to Will to see her so broken especially after he had spent two years wondering what had happened to her. She started to tell him that she was fine, but knew it was futile because he knew her so well. She watched him walk around to the other side of the bed and climb in beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.  
  
  
Sydney had managed to compose herself long enough for Will to make it over to the bed, but as soon as his arm went around her, Sydney knew she had lost the battle. She scooted closer to him, burying her face in his chest as his other arm went around her, hugging her to him. She felt his lips on her hair and his warm breath on her cheek when he whispered to her that everything was going to be okay. She didn't have enough strength to argue with him even though she knew he was wrong. Things would never be okay. Things *couldn't* be okay. There was no way that she could ever get back the life she had and there was no way that she would ever fully fit into this new life.  
  
  
She let Will hold her as she cried and found herself inching closer and closer to him, wanting to just melt in his arms so that she wouldn't have to deal with the pain anymore. Her sobs subsided a bit when Will began to rock her back and forth, humming some soothing tune that she didn't recognize. She buried her face farther into his chest and gripped his shirt with her hand, needing something tangible to hold.  
  
  
Will hugged Sydney tighter, his chin resting firmly on the top of her head. He felt the iron fist closing around his heart again, this time because he wanted to make things right for Sydney but had no way to do it. He loved her and he had no idea how to help her through except to just be here with her, holding her, making her pain go away for at least a short time while she was wrapped in his arms.  
  
  
Sydney burrowed closer to Will and whispered, "Can; you stay in here with me tonight?"  
  
  
Will wrapped his arms tighter around Sydney and planted kisses in her hair. "Of; course, Syd."  
  
  
"Thank; you."  
  
  
Sydney closed her book and put it back on the table then slid underneath the covers and gestured for Will to do the same. He wrapped his arms around her, his chin on her shoulder and Sydney sighed softly. She reached up to turn off the light, then covered Will's hands on her stomach with her own.  
  
  
"Will;?" Sydney whispered.  
  
  
"Hm;?" Will murmured.  
  
  
"What; were you humming earlier?"  
  
  
"Just; something I made up."  
  
  
Sydney ran her fingers lazily over one of Will's hands. "I; liked it."  
  
  
"Yeah;?" Will asked, catching Sydney's hand and lacing his fingers through hers.  
  
  
"Yeah;," Sydney replied. After a few moments, she asked, "Do; you think you could hum it again?"  
  
  
Will chuckled into Sydney's shoulder. "I; don't see why not."  
  
  
"Thanks;," Sydney murmured, as Will began to hum again. Sleep claimed her before long, and she drifted off, feeling more content than she had in a long while.


	13. Possibilities

**Thirteen  
  
Possibilities  
  
  
  
**

Sydney woke up the next morning to find that Will had already awakened and had left her bed. She groaned a bit and rolled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. She realized that the night before had been the perfect opportunity to tell him what she had discovered she felt at the airport and when he had visited her in the cell.  
  
  
She had blown it.  
  
  
She sat up and tossed the covers off, then stood up and stretched. She gasped when a blinding pain shot through her stomach and she lifted her pajama top to look at the scar. She traced it with her finger, wondering what the object was that had been implanted in her stomach. She detested the idea of being put under the knife but if the pain got any worse, she might be compelled to have the necessary surgery.  
  
  
She let the top slip back down over her stomach and ran a hand through her hair. Her fingers got caught in the tangles and she left her bedroom and wandered to the bathroom. She saw that the bathroom had changed a bit and she had to look in a different drawer for her brush, but at least it was still there. She surveyed herself in the mirror. There were circles under her eyes and her eyes themselves looked almost empty. Her vision blurred a bit and she felt herself succumbing to her tears. She went to the shower and turned it on, hoping that the noise of the water splashing against the floor of the bathtub would drown out her sobs.  
  
  
She undressed while the water heated up, trying to contain herself until she was behind the curtain. If Will heard her, she would at least have an excuse. She tossed the clothes into the hamper in the bathroom and pulled the curtain back a bit so she could feel if the water was warm. Tears rained down on her cheeks and she lurched forward every time she tried to suppress a sob. She couldn't stand this, falling apart at any given moment. She tried to think of how she would even be able to move on with her life when she could still barely grasp what had happened.  
  
  
She realized she didn't want to accept what had happened. With everything that she had had to endure over the years she had spent as a spy, it wasn't fair that her life had to be completely ruined. Hadn't she earned a break?  
  
  
Sydney scoffed. It seemed that breaks didn't apply to her. Maybe she had been asking for it all along, starting with joining SD-6, thinking being a spy would somehow make her a better person. In reality, she had probably destroyed her own life. She told herself that it wasn't all her fault, though. How was she to know that SD-6 was a rogue organization and that the man who ran it was a certifiable rat? She was just nineteen and naïve, wanting to fit in and wanting to make a difference, to feel important.  
  
  
She had been taken advantage of deliberately. Her future had been carved by Arvin Sloane. He had literally shaped her into what she had become. There was no way that she could just stop now, she was in too deep. Even if she brought Sloane to justice, she would probably never stop. She couldn't give it up, much as she wished she could. Something would always draw her back in.  
  
  
The sobs came and she didn't bother to check the water before jumping into the shower, hastily shutting the curtain. She stood under the water, tilted the showerhead more so that the water rained on her back as she pressed her forehead to the cool tile and cried.  
  
  
  
  
Will was making breakfast for himself and Sydney—the standard bacon, eggs, and toast—when he first heard something that sounded like someone was crying. Instinctively, he went to Sydney's room and saw that she wasn't there. He looked down the hall and saw the bathroom door closed and vaguely heard the sound of running water.  
  
  
Quietly, he walked down the hall and stopped in front of the closed door. He raised his hand to knock, intending to ask Sydney if she was all right. He decided against it, figuring she might want to be alone. He thought that she probably wanted some time to come to terms with things on her own. She was stubborn, that much was true, but there were times when she wasn't being stubborn—she just needed her space.  
  
  
Will stood there a moment longer, his heart breaking more and more every time he heard a sob through the steady pounding of the water. His hand lingered on the doorknob, and he dared himself to open the door, walk in and slip a hand behind the curtain for Sydney to hold until she could relax.  
  
  
Finally, he walked back down the hall towards the kitchen and continued making breakfast, waiting patiently for Sydney to come out of the bathroom.  
  
  
  
  
Sydney still stood with the nearly scalding water beating down on her back. She couldn't feel it though, she was numb all over. Her forehead was still lying against the cool tile of the wall and her hands were clenched into fists by her sides. She eventually worked up the strength to cease her sobs and reached down to adjust the water temperature.  
  
  
Drawing back from the wall, she turned around and reached up to adjust the showerhead again. She reached for some soap and lathered her body, hoping to scrub away all of her pain. She washed her hair next then propped a leg up on the edge of the bathtub and ran a hand from ankle to thigh. She didn't have a razor, but at least there was only a slight stubble of hair. She sighed a bit, figuring it didn't matter *too* much as she would probably be wearing jeans anyway. She would just have to make sure she made a trip to the store later that day.  
  
  
She rinsed thoroughly, then shut off the water. She rung her hair out as best she could, then pulled the curtain back and stepped out the shower. She saw what looked to be a clean towel and used it to dry herself off. She flung the towel over the curtain rod and walked over to the closed door. Two robes were hanging on the hook—hers and Will's. She lifted hers off of the hook and slipped it on, pulling it tight around her.  
  
  
She dug around in other drawers, looking for a blow-dryer. She found one and set it on the counter as she looked for some conditioner. She found some of that as well and worked it through her hair, then picked up her brush and dragged it through her hair a few times. She plugged in the blow-dryer and let it hover over her hair until she decided it was dry enough. She unplugged the blow-dryer and put it away, then brushed her hair again and ran a hand through it, tousling her layers.  
  
  
She looked at the door for a moment, then walked over to it. Her hand hesitated on the handle, then she finally opened it. She made her way to her room and closed the door softly. She rifled through her closet, pleased that all of her clothes were still there. She decided on jeans and a powder blue t-shirt.  
  
  
She went to her bureau next, pulling out a pair of panties and a bra, then proceeded to dress. As she was pulling on her shirt, she sniffed the air and thought she detected the smell of bacon. Her stomach growled as she adjusted the rather tight shirt and a grin spread over her face. She left her room and made her way to the kitchen. She spotted Will at the stove, apparently scrambling some eggs. Quietly, she eased herself onto a barstool and rested her forearms on the counter, watching him silently. She was glad that he hadn't seen her yet, because she was afraid that he would catch her staring at him. She liked it better like this anyway—she was able to see him relaxed, with no concerns at all.  
  
  
A smile spread across her face as she realized that she could easily get used to this—watching Will cook, then having a lazy breakfast with him before work or whatever had to be done that day. She watched him go to a cupboard, his back still facing her, and take out two plates and set them by the stove. He used a spatula to put some of the scrambled eggs onto each plate, then added a couple strips of bacon. He drummed his fingers on the counter, waiting for the toast to finish.  
  
  
Sydney's eyes drifted from his hair and down his back and legs. He was wearing a light gray t-shirt that clung to his muscles and a pair of forest green sweats that hung low on his hips.  
  
  
She could *definitely* get used to this.  
  
  
She let out a soft sigh without even realizing it, and Will turned around to face her. She noticed the apprehension in his eyes and she swallowed the lump in her throat. He must have heard her crying earlier and was afraid to say much for fear he might trigger it again. She gave him a smile that she hoped was reassuring and was relieved when he smiled back at her.  
  
  
"I; didn't know you could cook," Sydney said, grinning, her dimples prominent.  
  
  
"Honestly;, neither did I," Will said, and Sydney laughed.  
  
  
"What; time did you get up?" Sydney asked.  
  
  
Will shrugged. "Around; eight, I think."  
  
  
Sydney glanced at the clock on the oven and saw that it was a little after nine. The toast popped up and Will placed one piece on each plate. Sydney got up from her seat and went to the refrigerator. She pulled the door open and started laughing.  
  
  
"What;?" Will asked as he buttered a piece of toast.  
  
  
Sydney pulled out a carton of orange juice and a half-empty six-pack of Coors. "Dude;," she began, still laughing, "you; have orange juice and beer."  
  
  
"So;?" Will said defensively.  
  
  
Sydney raised an eyebrow and grinned as she put the contents back on the shelves of the refrigerator. "It;'s *all* you have, save for a few eggs, a near-empty package of bacon, and a loaf of bread that's almost gone. What do you eat?"  
  
  
"Look; in the freezer," Will told her, carrying the plates to the table.  
  
  
Sydney frowned, then pulled open the freezer door. " she said, shaking her head. The freezer was chock-full of frozen TV dinners. "You; live off of TV dinners?"  
  
  
"Not; always," Will said.  
  
  
"Oh;?"  
  
  
"There;'s always the occasional pizza or Chinese take-out."  
  
  
" Sydney said again, giving him a sad look.  
  
  
"Syd;, I'm fine. I manage. I might have to work out a little more than I would normally have to, but I'm fine with that," Will said.  
  
  
Sydney smiled a bit. "You; know, I can tell you've been working out."  
  
  
"Yeah;?"  
  
  
"Yeah;, you look good," she said, closing the freezer door and taking the carton of orange juice from the refrigerator. She pulled a couple of glasses from a cupboard and set them down on the counter. She poured some orange juice into each glass, then put the carton back into the refrigerator. She walked the glasses over to the table and placed one in front of Will, then sat down with hers.  
  
  
"I; have to say, you're looking a lot better than you did yesterday," Will told her, diving into his eggs. Sydney shrugged and Will tried to explain. "What; I'm saying is, you didn't look like 'Sydney' yesterday, you know what I mean? You didn't have the sparkle in your eyes that you have when you're feeling good or happy or whatever. You just looked—"  
  
  
"—broken," Sydney finished, biting into her toast and staring down at her plate.  
  
  
Will sighed. "I;'m sorry, it's just" He shook his head. "I; don't know Syd. I'm just so happy that you're back, but yesterday was just hard for me to see you looking how you did. I couldn't stand what you had to be put through after everything you had already had to endure. Then you just looked so alone and in need of someone to just get you out of that situation and I wanted to *so* bad, and I just couldn't because—"  
  
  
"Will;," Sydney interjected calmly, "it;'s all right." She reached across the table and took his hand in hers. She squeezed it gently, then let go and focused her attention back on her food.  
  
  
"Syd;—" Will began, but was interrupted again by Sydney.  
  
  
"Will;, seriously, it's fine."  
  
  
"No;, um, I wanted to tell you something," he said, meeting her gaze, then hastily looking down when he saw Sydney's eyes reflect some sort of confusion.  
  
  
"Oh.;" Sydney looked down as well, and toyed with her eggs.  
  
  
Will swallowed, wondering if he should just drop it and tell her later. But now seemed like it was a good time to say what he wanted to say, to get it off his chest and see how she felt in return. He decided he would be fine if she didn't feel the same way. He knew she wouldn't reject him outright, she'd let him down easy and he would be able to forget that he had ever said anything and they would slip into their comfortable friendship.  
  
  
He looked up at her, finding her eyes alight with curiosity and anticipation. Her mouth was open slightly and he took the time to try and memorize the tantalizing curve of her lips. He faltered when he thought he saw Sydney inhale sharply, and briefly wondered if she knew what he was about to say.  
  
  
"Syd;," he began again, and this time he was interrupted by the telephone.  
  
  
Sydney got up before Will did, but Will was grateful that she didn't go flying out of her chair, eager to end the moment as soon as possible. She just stood up and walked over to the phone.  
  
  
"Hello;?" Sydney said into the receiver. "Oh;—Kendall."  
  
  
Will sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He stood up and walked over to Sydney, leaning his head close to hers so he could try and hear the conversation. His shoulder brushed hers and he could swear a shiver went through her body. He realized it was neither the time nor the place, but he briefly wondered what she would do if he simply took the phone from her, disconnected the call, and began to kiss her. He mentally shook the thought off and leaned closer as Kendall had lowered his voice.  
  
  
Sydney could barely hear what Kendall was saying because all she could hear was her pulse hammering in her ears. Will's shoulder had brushed hers and she felt desire coursing through her. A wry thought came to her mind: _I guess two years *have* gone by—my mind might not understand it, but my body sure as hell does._ She fought the urge to chuckle at the thought, as she would have to explain to both Kendall and Will why she had laughed.  
  
  
That fact sobered her.  
  
  
She found that she had missed what Kendall had said and sincerely hoped that Will had caught it. She thought about their conversation that was cut short at the table. She wondered what Will wanted to say to her. A voice in her head told her that she already knew, but she was afraid to get her hopes up and be let down. She was fragile enough, she didn't need to be crushed any further.  
  
  
Finally, Kendall seemed to be satisfied in relaying whatever information he had said that Sydney missed, and ended the call with a stiff good-bye. Sydney sighed and hung up the phone as Will walked back over to the table and sat down. Sydney went back to the table as well and considered asking Will what he was going to say earlier, but decided against it. On the one hand, she wanted to know, on the other hand, she didn't want to seem too eager. If he thought she was too eager, he might drop it altogether, thinking she might not be able to handle what he was going to tell her.  
  
  
She sighed and worked on finishing her breakfast.  
  
  
**A/N:** Hm I seriously need to write some smut;x If you've read my other stuff, you know that smut pops up quite a bit;x But, anyways, I need to drag this out longer because there's going to be more love triangle-y stuff. Plus, a little UST is always good;)


	14. Chance

**Fourteen  
  
Chance  
  
  
  
**

"So;, two weeks, huh?"  
  
  
Sydney looked up from the couch where she was sitting with a legal pad in her lap, writing. "What;?"  
  
  
Will took a seat beside Sydney on the couch. "Kendall;—he gave you two weeks off."  
  
  
"Oh.; Yeah," Sydney said distractedly, vaguely recalling the earlier phone conversation with Kendall that had interrupted breakfast.  
  
  
Will peered over her shoulder. "Grocery; list?"  
  
  
"Yeah;," Sydney said, jotting down a few more items.  
  
  
"We;'re going shopping?"  
  
  
"*I* am," Sydney said, swallowing the lump in her throat and hoping that Will wouldn't be too upset that she had decided to go shopping alone. It wasn't that she didn't want him to go with her, it was just that she needed some time alone, to figure things out and get back into the routines she had.  
  
  
"Oh;," Will finally said, failing to hide his dejection.  
  
  
"Will;, I'm sorry, I just—"  
  
  
"It;'s okay, Syd, really," Will told her, gently squeezing her shoulder.  
  
  
Sydney nodded slowly, then kept her eyes focused on the legal pad. She finished writing down all of the things she intended to buy, then stood up. Will stood up as well and they looked at each other for a moment, neither one speaking.  
  
  
"Let; me get you the checkbook," Will said, breaking the silence.  
  
  
"Oka;—wait, what?" Sydney asked, arching an eyebrow.  
  
  
"The; CIA had to close all of your accounts to cover all tracks," Will explained.  
  
  
Sydney crossed her arms over her chest. "So; where's my money?"  
  
  
"All; of it was withdrawn and is being kept in some sort of safe at headquarters."  
  
  
"I; see."  
  
  
Will sighed. "Syd;, it was a precaution. If you showed up and started using your account after not touching it for two years, don't you think that would be a *tad* suspicious?"  
  
  
"I; suppose," Sydney admitted, "but; what do I do now? I'll have to open another account somewhere else because opening another at the same bank would also be suspicious."  
  
  
"Yeah.;"  
  
  
Sydney pouted a bit. "I; liked my bank."  
  
  
Will gave her a lopsided grin. "Beggars; can't be choosers."  
  
  
Sydney dropped her gaze from Will's when she felt a tear sting her eye. She discretely wiped it away then looked back up, her eyes burning into Will's. "That; hurt."  
  
  
"I;'m sorry," Will said sincerely, more than ready to open his mouth and insert his foot.  
  
  
Sydney nodded vigorously, trying to stop the current of tears pouring down her cheeks. She turned away from Will after setting down the pad and pen. She wiped her eyes and began to walk towards the door. "I; think I'm going to go for a walk first," she said, her voice gruff with her tears.  
  
  
"Syd;—" Will interjected, striding up to her. She was reaching for her coat and trying to contain her sobs.  
  
  
"I; just—" she started, shaking her head, "I; just—"  
  
  
Will planted a hand on Sydney's shoulder and turned her towards him. Despite her obvious embarrassment of her tears, she managed to look up at him, into his eyes. Will felt tears creeping into his own eyes as his heart was breaking again. He recalled their breakfast conversation.  
  
  
_"What; I'm saying is, you didn't look like 'Sydney' yesterday, you know what I mean? You didn't have the sparkle in your eyes that you have when you're feeling good or happy or whatever. You just looked—"  
  
  
"—broken," Sydney finished, biting into her toast and staring down at her plate.  
  
_  
Will shuddered at how similar she looked now to how she had looked in the cell.  
  
  
"Sydney;," he said softly, drawing her into his arms. "I; didn't mean what I said, it just slipped out."  
  
  
"You;'re right, though," Sydney argued, her sobs subsiding as Will's began. "I; was expecting everything to be the same. I was expecting to come back here and find that nothing had changed. I was lucky to be alive and now I'm being selfish. You're completely right, Will—beggars *can't* be choosers."  
  
  
Will drew back and regarded Sydney with tear-filled eyes. "Syd;, you have the right to be as selfish as you want. You didn't deserve this, *any* of this."  
  
  
Sydney stepped around Will and crossed over to the couch. "Maybe; I did," she said sadly, slumping down upon the cushions.  
  
  
Will followed suit and sat down beside Sydney. He lifted her chin and turned her head towards him. "How; can you even say that? How can you say you deserved any of the horrible things that have happened to you?"  
  
  
Sydney tried to avert her gaze, but Will didn't allow her to and kept his intent gaze focused on her, clearly waiting for an answer. Sydney stared back at him, her eyes softening. "I; don't know," she said finally, "I; don't know anything anymore."  
  
  
"I; don't believe that," Will said firmly.  
  
  
"Why; not?" Sydney demanded.  
  
  
Will took Sydney's hands in both of his. "Sydney;, I know this is a tough time for you, coming back and finding that everything you once knew has changed, but I'm not going to let you give up this easily."  
  
  
"Will;, I don't even deserve to come back to a normal life. Honestly, becoming a spy has completely ruined my life but it was all my fault. I wanted to make a difference, I wanted to help people, I wanted to do something that *mattered*." She shook her head and sighed. "Look; where that's gotten me."  
  
  
Will lifted her chin back up. "You; are not to blame for this, and you were certainly not wrong in wanting to do something that you thought was important."  
  
  
"By; joining SD-6 I caused a chain reaction of devastating events," Sydney countered.  
  
  
"Sydney;, I don't know how to make this any clearer to you. It is *not* your fault. None of this is. Things may have happened, that much is true, but you did *not* cause any of them."  
  
  
"It; doesn't matter anyway. I mean, I'm still where I was before I left. I'm still going to be chasing after Sloane." Sydney scoffed. "I; was gone for two years and I still have this to deal with. Nothing's changed in that regard. My life is still going to be dictated by him."  
  
  
Will was nearly fuming. "Sydney;, no one dictates your life except you. No one! No matter what has happened or what still needs to happen, he does *not* control your life."  
  
  
"If; that's the case then," Sydney began thoughtfully, "I; should be able to quit the CIA and just go on with my life. I shouldn't have to worry this anymore. I should let Kendall and everyone else find the bastard."  
  
  
"But; Sydney—"  
  
  
"See;?!" she exploded. "You; guys are *lost* without me! You could never find Sloane without my help which means I'll never be able to live out even a remotely normal life because you and I both know that no matter how hard we try, we will *never* find Sloane!"  
  
  
"Sydney;, you *know* that's not true!"  
  
  
"It; is true! We'll never find him! He'll always find some way to elude us like he's apparently been doing for the past two years!" Sydney yelled.  
  
  
"We; will find him somehow, Sydney!"  
  
  
"No;, we—"  
  
  
Sydney was cut off suddenly by Will's lips on hers. She was surprised at first, but soon found herself drawn into the kiss, leaning back and pulling Will down on top of her. The argument was soon forgotten as Sydney surrendered herself completely. She remembered her conversation with Kendall as Will stood electrifyingly close to her, sending tingling sensations throughout her body. She felt that now, as Will's body seamlessly melded with hers, causing sensations of warmth to course through her. Her hand slid into Will's hair, her legs entwined with his, and she was about to slip her tongue into his mouth when he pulled back, leaving Sydney breathless. Will scrambled off of her and a whimper of protest escaped Sydney's lips.  
  
  
"I; don't know where that came from," Will said, a bit too hastily, "I;'m sorry."  
  
  
Sydney took a deep breath, more than aware that her face was flushed with the arousal that swept through her entire body. She sat up and moved away from Will, drawing her knees to her chest as she leaned against the arm of the couch. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest as she looked at Will, finding him with his eyes cast downward and his fingers forming a tepee.  
  
  
She was confused. She knew Will had feelings for her—it was obvious. Wasn't he showing that to her with the kiss? Wasn't that the point? Plus, she had willingly kissed back, as Will's lips on hers and his body pressed intimately against hers had set her body ablaze like a raging wildfire.  
  
  
She breathed deeply again, surprised to find herself still out of breath. _Maybe that's what he does to me,_ she thought, and finally worked up the courage to move closer to him. She noticed that he tensed when she did so, and forced a chuckle to break up the awkward silence between them. "What; was that?" she asked, patting his arm and smiling at him when he turned towards her.  
  
  
"I; don't know," Will admitted, "but; it shut you up, though."  
  
  
Sydney started to laugh, thinking that he was making a joke about the petty argument she had waged earlier but stopped abruptly when she realized that Will looked serious. Her eyes darted worriedly back and forth, trying to read Will's guarded expression. "What; are you talking about?"  
  
  
Will sighed in exasperation. "Earlier;, the argument, you wouldn't believe what I was telling you and I couldn't think of any other way to at least quiet you down."  
  
  
Sydney swallowed the lump in her throat and managed to keep her eyes locked onto Will's. "That; was why you did it? To shut me up? There was no other reason?"  
  
  
"Yes;," Will said, all too quickly, "that; was the only reason."  
  
  
Sydney grew nervous with Will's sapphire gems boring into her and looked down. "Oh.;"  
  
  
Will was quick to explain. "It; was the only way I could think of to calm you down and get your mind off of thinking that everything bad that has happened to you since you became a spy has been your fault."  
  
  
Sydney's jaw tightened. "So; you did it out of pity."  
  
  
"No;, I just—"  
  
  
"So; it had nothing to do with you maybe—" Sydney stopped abruptly, not wanting to make it looked like she cared. If Will was going to play dumb about his real reason for kissing her, then she wasn't going to open herself up for more scrutiny. She didn't have the strength anyway. She wasn't even sure she had the strength for a relationship right now, as she was still trying to adjust to this new life of hers. But, when Will had kissed her, she felt like she could be ready for a relationship, especially since it would be with Will. She wouldn't have to worry about things moving too fast because she knew Will wouldn't pressure her.  
  
  
She still didn't understand why Will was playing the kiss off like it meant nothing, like it had nothing to do with wanting to commence a relationship. If he had been scared and was looking for confirmation that she wanted what he did, he should have had enough of it. She had pulled him down on top of her and kissed him deeply. That alone should have been enough to reassure him.  
  
  
"Anyway;," Will began, snapping Sydney out of her thoughts, "I;'m sorry."  
  
  
Sydney was silent for a moment as she weighed her options. She could either open herself up and tell him that she knew exactly why he had kissed her and that she did indeed feel something for him, or she could simply accept his apology and move on.  
  
  
She chose the latter option. "Apology; accepted."  
  
  
"So; you were going to go shopping?" Will said, changing the subject.  
  
  
"Yes;," Sydney said, standing up and running a hand through her hair. She picked up the legal pad that was still lying on one of the couch cushions and tore off the sheet that had the list written on it. She ignored the fact that the sheet made a loud ripping noise and also ignored the fact that the ripping noise was because she had torn part of the paper. She tossed the pad back on the couch and folded the paper up and slipped it into the back pocket of her jeans.  
  
  
Will stood up. "I;'ll get the checkbook."  
  
  
"D;éjà vû," Sydney mumbled, wincing because she knew that earlier this was what had inadvertently led to the whole chain reaction in the first place. _Chain reaction,_ she mused, _there it is again. I was right, of course, I *do* start these things and end up causing so much pain  
  
_  
"Here;," Will said, handing her the checkbook. "I; called my bank this morning and let them know that I'm allowing you to sign checks from my account."  
  
  
"Fine;," Sydney agreed, "but; tomorrow I'm going to collect my money."  
  
  
Will nodded and sat back down on the couch, casually picking up a magazine and beginning to flip through it. "I;'ll see you later."  
  
  
Sydney was momentarily stunned and irritated by Will's nonchalance but brushed it off and headed for the door. She stopped when she realized she wouldn't be able to make out the check without knowing the date. She glanced back at Will. "What;'s the date?"  
  
  
"April; sixth," Will answered, not looking up from his magazine.  
  
  
"Two-thousand; five?" she pressed, needing to make sure.  
  
  
"Yep.;"  
  
  
With that, Sydney grabbed her keys and her coat and went out to her car.  
  
  
  
  
Will threw the magazine he was reading across the room as soon as he heard the door close. He held his face in his hands, cursing himself over and over for messing things up so badly. He knew that Sydney had opened herself up to him when she had kissed him back and he knew that she was apparently showing him that she at least felt a shred of something towards him.  
  
  
For whatever reason, he had gotten scared. He was startled that Sydney felt something for him. He thought it would be the happiest day of his life to learn that Sydney wanted him, too, but instead he was just utterly freaked out. He tried to figure out why he thought it was crazy for Sydney to like him. He knew that they had been friends for years and besides the drunken kiss, nothing remotely romantic had ever happened between them, but as he decided before—maybe that was because so many things had been going on behind the scenes for something to spark.  
  
  
When he hadn't been able to tell her at breakfast that he felt something for her, he knew he needed to find another opportunity. Even though they had been arguing, and even though one of the reasons Will had kissed Sydney was so she *would* drop her argument, the true reason was to see how she responded to it. He had been surprised, relieved, and shocked all at the same time when she had kissed him back and pulled him on top of her and slid a hand into his hair and wrapped her legs around his.  
  
  
He groaned loudly, wondering how he could even begin to fix the damage he had caused. He decided he would make it up to her when she came home with the groceries. He would simply take her into his arms without a word and give her a kiss that was one like she had never experienced before.  
  
  
Hopefully, it would be enough to right his wrongs.  
  
  
**A/N:** Oops. Will screwed up. Ah well. Love triangle time! Whoo hoo! I was *so* excited about having the kiss between Syd and Will that would spark bitter feelings and lead Syd away from Will so I could get to the Sarkney;) So, anyways, there should be some Sarkney-ish stuff soon, assuming FF.net gets its head on straight long enough for me to post some new chapters. Once again, thanks to everyone who is reviewing—especially **Linz**—you rock! I'll have new stuff soon, I promise, since I'm finally out of school for the year! Whoo hoo! _À bientôt mes chères!_


	15. Unprepared

**A/N:** To **Jade2099**, I think you'll like this chapter;)**  
**

  
  
Fifteen  
  
Unprepared  
  
  
  


Sydney wandered into the local grocery store and grabbed a cart before she began her perusing. She pushed the cart along, her forearms resting on the handle. She decided to work the aisles, starting with the ones near the bakery until she reached the produce section all the way at the other end of the store.  
  
  
She pulled the list from her back pocket and unfolded it. She glanced at what she had written down and pulled a couple loaves of bread from a nearby shelf, placing them in the top portion of the basket.  
  
  
She looked at the list again and turned it over so she could read the back. She sighed as she saw just how much she needed to buy, then shrugged it off and made her way down the next aisle.  
  
  
  
  
At least forty-five minutes had gone by when Sydney found herself about half done with her shopping. She was in the aisle with razors, shaving cream, and an assortment of other toiletries. She looked at the selection of razors and saw that there was at least twice as many as she remembered seeing the last time she was in a grocery store.  
  
  
She picked up a Gillette Venus and saw that there were now at least seven different colors in which one could buy the razor as opposed to the two with which she was previously familiar. She looked at the package in her hand—it was a color that she remembered being newly introduced.  
  
  
"'Passion Pink,'" she said aloud, shaking her head and placing the package back on the rack. "What; was wrong with the original color?"  
  
  
A female voice with a strong French accent behind Sydney made her jump. "_Je pense que le rasoir rose est mignon!_"  
  
  
For the moment, Sydney tried to ignore how ironic it was to have heard a woman speaking French when just the day before, Vaughn had told her about his new wife who was French. She managed to shake off her apprehension. Whether the opinionated woman behind her was Vaughn's wife or not, there was something more pressing that Sydney needed to find out—why the woman thought that the pink razor was cute.  
  
  
Licking her suddenly dry lips, Sydney turned around to face the woman. Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head as she was stunned by the woman's beauty. The woman had flowing dark brown hair, bright hazel eyes, a breathtaking figure, and a million-dollar smile that showcased perfect teeth, which Sydney thought was odd given the woman's accent and where she was apparently from.  
  
  
_Damn,_ Sydney thought, in reference to the woman's beauty, _Vaughn sure knows how to pick 'em._ Then, _If I were a lesbian_ Sydney cleared her throat and didn't allow herself to finish that last thought.  
  
  
She still needed to find out why the woman had said what she had said—as well as stop staring at her with her mouth hanging open. She pressed her lips together and crossed her arms over her chest. "_Pourquoi est-ce que vous pensez qu'il est mignon?_"  
  
  
The woman seemed to be taken aback for a moment, and Sydney was certain that it was because she was somewhat shocked that Sydney could understand and speak French. The woman bit her lip and Sydney raised an eyebrow. Suddenly, the woman was smiling again and Sydney was feeling nervous.  
  
  
"I; moved here from France a little over a year ago," the woman explained in her thick accent, "and; my native language slips out every now and then." She flashed Sydney another smile and Sydney smiled back. "I; was surprised that you understood what I said and could respond to it. I only know one person who can do that, and that's my husband."  
  
  
Sydney felt her smile fade a bit, but forced herself to nod as she stole a glance at the woman's left hand and discovered a modest diamond ring on her finger. Forcing down the wave of unease that had risen from her stomach to her throat, Sydney changed the subject and said, "So; why do you think the pink razor is cute?"  
  
  
The woman laughed and replied, "I; think that it's just adorable and women who prefer their razors to be of a certain color can have their choice."  
  
  
Sydney wore a tight smile. "I; suppose."  
  
  
The two women looked at one another for another moment before they both dropped their gazes to the shiny linoleum floor and sighed. Sydney broke the silence.  
  
  
"Well;, I guess I better—"  
  
  
She was cut off by a male voice.  
  
  
"Michelle;, _ma chère, je te cherchais pour dix minutes._"  
  
  
_Vaughn,_ Sydney thought, and turned around before he could see her.  
  
  
"Michael;, if you keep speaking French around me, you know it's not going to help me break out of my habit of speaking it," Michelle said with a laugh.  
  
  
Vaughn, not paying attention to the woman who was pushing her cart away rather quickly, wrapped his arms around his wife's waist and said, "But; then I won't get to hear your lovely French accent wrapping around the lovely French words."  
  
  
Still not quite out of earshot, Sydney's stomach threatened to make her throw up her breakfast when Michelle said, "But; there are still some *private* places you'll hear my French, _mon chère._"  
  
  
Vaughn laughed and Sydney froze when she heard her name. "Sydney;?"  
  
  
Sydney closed her eyes and tried to tell herself that it wasn't happening.  
  
  
"Syd;?"  
  
  
Sydney turned around slowly and a weak smile crossed her lips. "Hey.;"  
  
  
"I; thought that was you," Vaughn said with a smile. Michelle looked surprised at the exchange and Vaughn wrapped an arm around her shoulders and led her over to Sydney. "Michelle;, I'd like you to meet Sydney Bristow. We work together," Vaughn explained, and a smile spread across Michelle's face and she shook Sydney's hand. Vaughn continued, "Sydney;, this is my wife, Michelle."  
  
  
"Nice; to meet you," Sydney said, the weak smile still in place. She never realized how much she would dread this day until it finally became reality. When she and Vaughn were at the safehouse in Hong Kong, she learned about Michelle, but the woman who had stolen Vaughn's heart was nothing more than a name without a face. Sydney didn't know who the woman was and she didn't realize until this moment that she truly wished it could have stayed that way. Now, she found herself understandably jealous and extremely uncomfortable.  
  
  
Standing there, staring at the happy couple, Sydney felt something stir inside of her. She longed to have a relationship. The awkward moment after she and Will had kissed on the couch rose up in Sydney's mind and she swallowed hard. She had wanted something to happen beyond the kiss and Will had given her the impression that he did not.  
  
  
Sydney felt her lip quiver and she looked quickly down at the floor, praying that she wouldn't start crying right here in front of Vaughn and his wife and be embarrassed for as long as she lived.  
  
  
"Sydney;, are you all right?" Vaughn asked, and Sydney cursed inwardly at his observation skills and his unwavering concern for her.  
  
  
Sydney looked up and plastered a smile on her face that betrayed her inner turmoil. "Yeah;, I'm fine. But, I really need to finish my shopping so I can get home and cook dinner for Will and I."  
  
  
A look of jealousy passed over Vaughn's features for a moment and Sydney caught it. "Well;, we won't keep you," Vaughn said, smiling, wrapping his arm tighter around Michelle's shoulders.  
  
  
Sydney pretended not to be unnerved by how possessive Vaughn was being in order to hide the discomfort he obviously felt about the idea of Sydney and Will being together. "All; right, well, I'll see you at work in two weeks unless I decide to go back early," Sydney said, preparing to lead her cart away from the couple.  
  
  
"See; you then," Vaughn said.  
  
  
"It; was great to meet you," Michelle put in, before Vaughn turned and led her away.  
  
  
"You; too," Sydney whispered when they were out of earshot.  
  
  
  
  
Sydney continued her shopping and found herself with a nearly full cart as she approached the produce section. She didn't have a watch on and there were no clocks around, but she knew it was probably fairly late in the afternoon so she decided to move rather quickly in selecting fruits and vegetables. She was picking up a cantaloupe when a British accent startled her.  
  
  
"Doing; some grocery shopping, Ms. Bristow?"  
  
  
Sighing heavily and trying to mask her annoyance, Sydney replied, "Apparently;, Sark." She put down the cantaloupe after pressing it a few times to check if it was firm. She picked up another, checked it, and put it back. Sark picked one up as well, mimicking the pressing actions Sydney had performed on the cantaloupe she had just set down.  
  
  
"Here;," Sark said, holding it out to her.  
  
  
"What;?"  
  
  
"It;'s ripe."  
  
  
"Well;, then buy it," Sydney said, gesturing to Sark's cart which was about as full as hers.  
  
  
"I;'m not too fond of cantaloupe," Sark admitted.  
  
  
"Why; were you checking to see if that one was ripe, then?" Sydney demanded.  
  
  
"I; was assisting you on your quest for the perfect cantaloupe," Sark said with a smirk.  
  
  
"Sark;, I don't need your help to find a ripe piece of fruit," Sydney told him.  
  
  
Sark shrugged. "I; just figured it might be easier to have two people wading through the mountain of fruit instead of just one—especially since I was already standing here."  
  
  
"Fine;," Sydney said, throwing up her hands in exasperation. She took the cantaloupe from Sark, ripped off a plastic bag and twist-tie, and proceeded to put the cantaloupe inside. She gazed at the bag, well-aware that Sark was sporting a victorious smirk. "So; what do you want, anyway?" she asked as she set the bag in her cart, "and; why aren't you at work?"  
  
  
"It;'s my day off."  
  
  
"That;'s nice. Until today I was basically unfamiliar with that concept," Sydney muttered.  
  
  
Sark chuckled. "Haven;'t had too many days off, Ms. Bristow?"  
  
  
Sydney fought the urge to smirk as she said, "Not; really, considering most of the days I should have had off were spent tracking your ass down."  
  
  
"Fond; memories, I'm sure," Sark said with a grin.  
  
  
Sydney's head whipped up and she glared pointedly at him. "What; do you want, Sark?"  
  
  
"What; makes you assume I want something?" Sark asked, fixing his startlingly blue eyes on Sydney.  
  
  
Sydney swallowed hard, as Sark's eyes burning into hers along with his valid question was making her stomach do flips. "You; always want something, Sark."  
  
  
Sark pursed his lips and nodded. "What; if I said that what I wanted was the pleasure of your company?"  
  
  
Sydney narrowed her eyes and tried to fix Sark with a cold stare despite the fact that her heartbeat had just accelerated to about twice its normal rate. _Why am I acting like this? It's *Sark*. Why am I acting like a 15-year-old with a crush on the quarterback of the high school football team?_ She forced herself to calm down and figure out the real reason behind Sark's admission after her eyes spiraled down Sark's body. He was wearing a white oxford that was untucked from his relaxed-fit stonewash jeans and had the sleeves rolled up to the elbow. His hair was curly as always, but today it seemed a bit more curly than usual and Sydney found that she liked it better that way. She also took notice of the fact that Sark had listened to her advice about getting rid of the goatee and saw that his face looked about as boyishly handsome as boyishly handsome could possibly be. She tried to focus. "Why; would you want the pleasure of my company?"  
  
  
"I; would like to get to know you better," Sark said, his eyes once again boring into Sydney's.  
  
  
Sydney fought to keep her voice steady but failed miserably as she said, "W-why; would y-you like to get t-to know me better?"  
  
  
Sark smirked, apparently pleased with how he was able to make Sydney stammer. Sydney fixed him with an icy glare and the smirk left Sark's face. "We;'re going to be working together, Sydney. I figured it would be best if we could learn something about each other beyond what we know from our past as enemies."  
  
  
Sydney cocked an eyebrow. "Sark;, we could do that in a CIA conference room or something." She noticed Sark looked a bit hurt. "What; exactly did you have in mind?"  
  
  
Sark brightened and said, "After; we both finish our shopping, I figured we could get a cup of coffee at the new café that just opened."  
  
  
"Well;," Sydney began, "I; have perishable items that desperately need to be in a refrigerator."  
  
  
Sark shrugged. "Go; home first and put everything away, then I can come by and pick you up if you like."  
  
  
"Sark;," Sydney started, "do; you really want to go through all that trouble?"  
  
  
"I; don't consider it trouble," Sark replied.  
  
  
Sydney stared at him for a minute, her eyes locking onto his, then dipped her head so that Sark couldn't see the color that was seeping into her cheeks. "Okay.;"  
  
  
Sark smiled. "I;'ll pick you up in a little while." He maneuvered his cart around Sydney's and started towards the checkout.  
  
  
Sydney watched him go, her eyes focused on Sark's retreating back. Her knees felt weak and she grasped the handle of the cart to steady herself. She thought about what she had just agreed to and what it meant or could mean. She was convinced that Sark wanted more than to just get to know her better. She wasn't sure if Sark was trying to get information from her or if he had taken an interest to her that was deeper than a standard co-worker relationship.  
  
  
_Oh God,_ she thought as her breath caught in her throat, _what if this was his subtle way of asking me out on a date?_ She tried to shake the thought off. It was *Sark*. Why would Sark be interested in her that way? And, more importantly, why did Sydney find herself caring whether or not he did?  
  
  
Sydney licked lips suddenly gone dry and attempted to finish the rest of her shopping.  
  
  
**Another A/N:** SARKNEY!!! YEAH!!! Okay. Whee! Ah, yes, for those who think this story is moving a bit slow, it should pick up as soon as I establish some major Sarkney. Obviously, Sydney is probably not going to take the two weeks off. In fact, when she goes to get her money, she'll probably march into a mission briefing that is already in progress and convince everyone that she is not only capable of doing the mission but really wants to be a part of it. That's not *too* spoilery, right?;x Oh, *this* might be a bit spoilery, but oh well: expect a conversation later on between two people;x Hm I think that was more vague than spoilery. Oh well;) It *could* be spoilery if you figure out who, though. It will be even *more* spoilery if you figure out what's going to be discussed (virtually impossible unless you sneaked a peek into my story notes, but hey, it could happen;x). But, like I said, it will happen later on. Anyways, happy reading, and I should have a new chapter posted soon;) Once again, thank you to everyone who has been reviewing, I love you all;)


	16. Date

**Sixteen  
  
Date  
  
  
  
**

Sydney drove home after completing her shopping venture. She parked and saw that Will was apparently out and about or had gone to work. She got out of her car after popping the trunk and closed the door. She grabbed a few of the bags, then made her way to the door of her apartment and unlocked it. She went inside and set the bags in the kitchen then went back outside to bring in the other groceries.  
  
  
After the third trip, she was finally able to close her trunk and go inside to put the groceries away. It took her longer than she expected, but she attributed it to the fact that she was extremely apprehensive about the meet with Sark.  
  
  
She wasn't even certain if it was going to be a date-like situation or if what she had told Sark at the party—that she believed he had a secret agenda—was going to turn out to be true. If it was, Sark was probably going to try and learn whatever he could that would aid him in destroying her.  
  
  
Sighing heavily, she put the last of the groceries away and checked the time on the oven clock. It was after three. She pulled the grocery list from her pocket and deposited it in the wastebasket under the sink, then put the checkbook on the kitchen counter.  
  
  
Afterwards, she went to her room and began looking in drawers to see if she had a watch that didn't have a dead battery. She found one that was functional and decided to wear it even though it was a bit extravagant for her tastes.  
  
  
As she did the clasp, she thought back to the Christmas morning when she had received it.  
  
  
_"Will;, what is this?" Sydney said, laughing.  
  
  
"Come; on, Syd, just open it," Will urged.  
  
  
"Oh;, let her take her time," Francie scolded, giving Will a playful jab in the stomach with her elbow.  
  
  
Sydney raised an eyebrow at him as she tore into the paper that the small box was wrapped in. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw that it was evidently a box that would house jewelry or something of the like. She looked up at Will and saw his eyes dancing as he waited for her to open the box. She hesitated a moment before slowly lifting the lid and gasping at what was inside. Francie peeked at the box and gasped as well, exchanging shocked glances with Sydney then staring at Will with her mouth agape.  
  
  
Sydney swallowed hard. "Oh; my God, is this—"  
  
  
Will grinned and nodded. "Solid; gold band with diamond insets around the face of the watch."  
  
  
" Sydney started, shaking her head in disbelief as tears filled her eyes.  
  
  
Will lifted her chin up and smiled at her as he thumbed away a tear that had escaped her eye. "Everyone; needs a gratuitously expensive watch."  
  
  
Sydney laughed, and more tears escaped and were gently wiped away by Will. "Thank; you." She leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. When she pulled back, she noticed that Will looked almost stunned by what she had just done but also pleasantly surprised. She grinned at him and he smiled back, a flush creeping into his neck.  
  
_  
Sydney wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and flopped down on her bed. She was suddenly seriously regretting agreeing to go to a café with Sark. The memory that the watch stirred in her mind only reminded her that Will *must* have felt something for her and probably had for years. But, that made her wonder why in the world he had basically denied it after their kiss on the couch before she had gone shopping.  
  
  
Sydney couldn't understand why he had done what he did, and she found herself not really sure if she wanted to know. Besides, she wasn't about to obsess over it as she didn't want to get her heart broken. So, adjusting the watch on her wrist and setting it to the correct time, she went to her closet to look for something to wear.  
  
  
  
  
A short while later, Sydney was sitting on the couch waiting for Sark to pick her up. She had decided on a maroon turtleneck sweater and a pair of khaki pants. She thought about braiding her hair or putting it up, but decided to keep it down and let it cascade around her shoulders. She ran a hand through her chestnut locks and tousled the layers a bit.  
  
  
She checked her watch and found that it was going on four o'clock and not only had Sark not arrived yet, but Will had not returned home. She had briefly flirted with the idea of leaving Will a note saying where she had gone, but decided that it was none of his business. She sighed and leaned back against the couch, her hands folded and resting on her stomach. At that moment, there was a knock at the door and Sydney jumped up from the couch. She giggled in spite of herself and cursed under her breath when she felt her cheeks grow warm.  
  
  
There was another knock and Sydney straightened her sweater and tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear. She tried to be as casual as possible when she opened the door and saw Sark standing before her, smiling, and wearing gray dress slacks and an off-white polo shirt. She smiled at him.  
  
  
"You; know, I'd berate you for being late, but we never set a specific time for you to come by," Sydney said, grinning broadly.  
  
  
Sark was still smiling as he said, "I;'m never late, Sydney."  
  
  
Sydney raised an eyebrow. "Never;?"  
  
  
"Never.;"  
  
  
"Then; I'm sure every girl wishes she had a guy like you." Sydney averted her gaze and cleared her throat when she saw Sark looking rather uncomfortable with her statement. Inwardly, she cursed herself in every language she knew for letting the words roll off of her tongue without a second thought. "We; should get going," Sydney said nervously, tucking her hair behind her ear.  
  
  
Sark's eyes caught a glimpse of gold on Sydney's wrist. "What;'s that?"  
  
  
Sydney brought her hand back to her side and gazed at him, confused. "What;'s what?"  
  
  
Sark grasped Sydney's hand and pointed to the watch on her wrist. "This.;"  
  
  
"Oh;," Sydney said, blushing. Sark made no attempt to release her hand and Sydney certainly didn't make an attempt to pull her hand away. "It; was a Christmas gift."  
  
  
"Very; nice," Sark mused, tracing the face of the watch with the index finger of his free hand and absently tracing circles on Sydney's palm with the index finger of the hand holding Sydney's wrist.  
  
  
Sydney swallowed hard as Sark's gentle touch sent shivers down her spine. "It;—um—it was the only watch I had that didn't have a dead battery," she explained, inadvertently inhaling sharply and sincerely hoping that Sark didn't notice.  
  
  
"I; see," Sark said, still tracing circles on her palm and staring down at the watch as if in a trance. "Well;, let's be off, shall we?" he said abruptly, releasing Sydney's hand and looking up at her with a smile gracing his features.  
  
  
Fearing her voice would fail her, Sydney simply nodded and grabbed her house key before heading out the door with Sark.  
  
  
  
  
Soon after arriving at the café, Sydney and Sark had found a table and had ordered. They sat in silence, neither one quite knowing just how to begin.  
  
  
" they both said at the same time, and shared a chuckle before lapsing into silence once again.  
  
  
Sydney was about to speak when the waitress walked over and placed their drinks in front of them. Instead, she murmured her thanks when Sark did. She filed away the indication of Sark's politeness as well as the fact that Sark had picked a café for the meeting. She always thought that he didn't seem like the type to be caught dead in one and relished the fact that she was wrong. She also thought about how much she liked casual Sark in the store earlier that day as well as now, in the café. She was so used to him wearing full suits that she never really thought about him wearing anything else. Sark's voice snapped her out of her thoughts.  
  
  
"What;?" she asked. "Sorry;, I was sort of—" She shook her head. "Nevermind.; What did you say?"  
  
  
"I; asked when your birthday is," Sark said.  
  
  
"Oh;," Sydney said, and took a sip of the latte she had ordered. "It;'s April seventeenth."  
  
  
"Little; over a week away," Sark mused.  
  
  
"Yeah;," Sydney said quietly. She laughed wryly. "Unfortunately;, I missed my last birthday."  
  
  
Sark flashed her an apologetic smile and took a sip of the tea he had ordered.  
  
  
"When;'s yours?" Sydney asked.  
  
  
"March; eleventh."  
  
  
Sydney grinned. "Happy; belated birthday."  
  
  
"Thank; you."  
  
  
"So; how old are you?" Sydney asked, sipping her coffee.  
  
  
"Twenty-four;," Sark replied, "and; yourself?"  
  
  
"Twenty-nine;," Sydney said with a sigh. Sark chuckled. "What;?" she asked, laughing a bit.  
  
  
"Nothing;," Sark said, grinning.  
  
  
Sydney blushed and ducked her head. "You;'re making me feel old."  
  
  
"Impossible;," Sark said, his grin fading, "our; jobs do that for both of us."  
  
  
Sydney looked up at him, her smile disappearing as well. She nodded slowly, then looked down at the table, nervous that their playful conversation had taken a serious turn.  
  
  
"So;," Sark began, "honestly;, what was the last thing you remembered before you woke up in Hong Kong?"  
  
  
Sydney leaned forward and whispered, "I; really don't think we should be discussing that in such a public place."  
  
  
Sark leaned forward as well, and Sydney almost gasped at the proximity. "Would; you like to go for a walk instead?"  
  
  
Sydney drew back and lifted her cup to her lips to take a long sip. She put the cup down and said nonchalantly, "Doesn;'t matter to me."  
  
  
Sark stood up and reached into the back pocket of his slacks to pull out his wallet. He lay a crisp bill on top of the check, then folded his wallet and put it back in his pocket. Sydney stood up as well, all the while staring at the bill Sark had just put down. She felt her cheeks reddening as she remembered that all of her money was locked in some CIA vault.  
  
  
"Let;'s go," Sark said, snapping Sydney out of her thoughts. She nodded and started for the door. Sark pushed it open before she reached it and gestured for her to go first. Sydney thanked him with a nervous smile and stood on the sidewalk waiting for Sark to join her.  
  
  
  
  
For a while, they walked in silence, absently kicking stray rocks here and there as they stared down at their feet. Their arms brushed from time to time and both Sydney and Sark would look up and smile nervously at one another.  
  
  
After they had been walking for a while, Sark decided to bring up his question from the café earlier. "What; was your last memory before waking up in Hong Kong?"  
  
  
Sydney sighed a bit and said, "I; shot Allison Doren and then I fainted from exhaustion from the fight with her."  
  
  
Sark visibly tensed. "So; it was definitely you who shot her and not someone else?"  
  
  
"Yes;," Sydney replied. "It;'s not like that matters anyway. All that matters is the bitch is dead."  
  
  
"Of; course," Sark murmured, trying to keep the anger out of his voice.  
  
  
Sydney looked over at him. "What;?" she asked.  
  
  
"Nothing;," Sark said with a shrug.  
  
  
"Sark;," Sydney said pointedly.  
  
  
"I; said it's nothing!" Sark burst out.  
  
  
Sydney felt an overwhelming urge to cry at Sark's shout. She swallowed hard and remained silent.  
  
  
"I;'m sorry I yelled at you," Sark said gently, "I; don't know why I did and it was definitely inappropriate."  
  
  
Sydney felt Sark's eyes on her and all she could do was nod. She spoke after a moment, determined to not let Sark get out of the subject just yet. "Did; you know her or something?"  
  
  
Sark fought the urge to yell at her again, anything to get her to stop prying. He couldn't tell her everything because he knew it would only ruin his chances of being able to continue working for the CIA and forget the past life he had led.  
  
  
"She; was in Project Christmas when she was younger and she and I met when I started working for Khasinau," Sark explained.  
  
  
"Oh;," Sydney murmured. "Were; you close?"  
  
  
"I; suppose."  
  
  
Sydney sighed heavily and began to speak rapidly, feeling the need to defend the fact that she had killed Doren. "Well;, while I'm sorry that you were friends or whatever you were, I'm certainly not sorry that I did what I did. I had no choice. She killed Francie and she hypnotized Will and almost—"  
  
  
"I; know what she did, Goddamn it!" Sark yelled. "You; don't have to remind me!"  
  
  
"Jesus;!" Sydney shrieked. "Why; the hell did you even bring this up if you didn't want to talk about it? Weren't you one of the sixty-three people standing behind the mirror when I admitted in my debrief that that was the last thing I remembered?! Why did you have to ask in the first place?!"  
  
  
"Yes;," Sark said slowly, "but; I wanted to make sure."  
  
  
Sydney was fuming. "Oh;, so my being strapped to a chair while giving answers and even having to reveal something very personal to me with sixty-three people watching doesn't *prove* my credibility?!"  
  
  
"'Personal'?" Sark questioned.  
  
  
"Yes;, '*personal*'!"  
  
  
Sark looked at her and raised an eyebrow. "How; was your last memory before you woke up in Hong Kong personal?"  
  
  
"It; wasn't," Sydney said, "admitting; that I slept with Vaughn was."  
  
  
"Ah;," Sark said, his trademark smirk returning to his lips, "I; wasn't in the room to hear that part."  
  
  
Sydney honestly felt sick. She tried to keep her sarcastic demeanor in place. "Well;, now you know."  
  
  
"I; suppose I do," Sark said, still smirking.  
  
  
Sydney scoffed and shook her head. "I; can't have any relationship without the whole world knowing about it." She looked down at her feet and kicked a rock hard. "Some; life I have."  
  
  
"I; guess our jobs aren't exactly ideal when it comes to relationships," Sark said, looking down and kicking a rock as well.  
  
  
"No;, definitely not," Sydney agreed, sending another rock skipping down the sidewalk. She rolled up the sleeves on her turtleneck. "It;'s warm."  
  
  
"It; is pretty warm for April," Sark concurred.  
  
  
Sydney sighed and shoved her hands into her pockets. Sark did the same. Suddenly, a smile spread across Sark's face.  
  
  
"When; you were a kid, what did you think you wanted to be when you grew up?" he asked, turning his head towards her.  
  
  
Sydney glanced over at him and smiled a bit, her cheeks burning. Her smile faded after a moment as she said, "I; always wanted to be a teacher. I liked the idea of it—helping kids learn. I was definitely influenced by my mother, because for so long, I had thought she was a teacher."  
  
  
"You;'d make an incredible teacher," Sark said sincerely.  
  
  
Sydney laughed and blurted, "How; would you know? You don't even know me."  
  
  
Sark was silent for a moment, then replied, "I; know enough."  
  
  
Sydney looked over at him and their eyes locked for a moment. They looked away at the same time.  
  
  
"It;'s dark already," Sydney commented, looking up at the sky for a moment.  
  
  
"It; is."  
  
  
They were silent again.  
  
  
"So;," Sydney began, "what; about you?"  
  
  
"What; about me?"  
  
  
"When; you were a kid—what did you want to be?" Sydney clarified.  
  
  
Sark shrugged and deliberately avoided Sydney's gaze. Sydney nudged him with her elbow.  
  
  
"Oh; come on," she said good-naturedly, "we; all have dreams."  
  
  
Their eyes locked again and Sark nodded slowly when he saw the sincerity in Sydney's eyes. "I; guess there was one thing I wanted to be."  
  
  
"Yeah;?"  
  
  
Sark nodded again.  
  
  
"Well;?" Sydney prodded.  
  
  
Sark bit his lip and Sydney found herself obsessing over how adorable she thought it was that Sark's bottom lip was a bit crooked. "I; could tell you, but I'd really rather not."  
  
  
"Why; not?" Sydney asked. "It; can't be *that* bad."  
  
  
"It;'s silly," Sark insisted.  
  
  
"I; promise I won't laugh," Sydney said, looking into Sark's eyes with a serious expression on her face.  
  
  
Finally, Sark relented. "All; right, I'll tell you. But if you laugh" he trailed off and Sydney fought back a grin. "I; wanted to be a rocket scientist."  
  
  
Sydney snorted and Sark sighed. "Sorry;," Sydney mumbled between giggles. "A; rocket scientist," she said aloud before cracking up again.  
  
  
"In; my defense," Sark began, "I; only wanted to be a rocket scientist to prove everyone wrong."  
  
  
Sydney stopped giggling long enough to ask, "What; do you mean?"  
  
  
Sark glanced at her, then looked down at his feet as his shoe sent a rock hurtling down the sidewalk. "You; know how people will say something like, 'It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure that out' when referring to something trivial that was discovered?"  
  
  
"  
  
  
Sark scuffed his shoe and Sydney hid a grin. The boyish behavior seemed so uncharacteristic of Sark and at the same time completely normal for him. "Well;, I wanted to be able to say, 'Sure it does!' when I was an adult and a rocket scientist."  
  
  
Sydney chuckled and the two lapsed into a companionable silence.  
  
  
  
  
Before long, Sydney realized that even though they thought they had just been wandering aimlessly, they had somehow ended up at her apartment.  
  
  
"What; the hell?" she said, laughing.  
  
  
Sark saw what she was talking about and laughed as well. "How; did we manage this?" he asked between chuckles.  
  
  
"I;'m not sure," Sydney admitted. They were silent again, then Sydney bit her lip and asked shyly, "Do; you want to come in?"  
  
  
Sark started to say that his car had been parked in front of a meter too long and he would probably receive a massive fine for it or have his car towed, but decided against it and simply nodded. Sydney's eyes lit up and she smiled at him as she started up the walk. Sark followed, but moved at a slower pace as he tried to figure out exactly what he had gotten himself into.  
  
  
**A/N:** Hee, sorry **Linz**;) I read your review and I was already past the Will not being home part and onto the Sarkney date and I was like, " ;x Don't worry, there should be *some* sort of confrontation here eventually;) Anyways, thanks to everyone who's been reviewing, even the chick that flamed me. You know, I was seriously considering digging out the Barbies that have been stashed in the garage for a decade. For the rest of you guys, I should have a new chapter posted soon. Happy reading;) One last thing, for **gin2001**, I'll *try* to work on 'F.P.' eventually. I let it languish because I saw the season finale and came up with 947 ideas for a new story. I actually wrote up some notes for 'Scars' first, intending to write the story later on, and I stuck to that for a week and tried to work on 'F.P.' But, it just became too much and I had to start writing 'Scars';x I'll *try* to finish it, though, because I'm near the end anyway, but I'll have to get myself in the 'F.P' mindset and divorce myself from 'Scars' long enough to do that.


	17. Consummation

**A/N:** There is an R-rated scene in this chapter, so be warned if that sort of thing makes you queasy.**  
**

  
  
Seventeen  
  
Consummation  
  
  
  


Sydney went inside first, relieved that Will still wasn't home yet, and Sark followed, shoving his hands into his pockets as he looked around. Sydney felt her pulse quicken because of the mere presence of Sark in her apartment. She walked over to the couch, pushing aside the memory of her kiss with Will, and sat down. Sark joined her and for a while they simply sat looking at the coffee table.  
  
  
"You;'re probably wondering why I invited you in," Sydney said quietly, trying to hide the nervousness in her voice.  
  
  
Sark nodded and flashed Sydney a genuine smile. "A; little bit."  
  
  
Blushing, Sydney said, "I; figured that maybe we could—talk—a little more." She held the gaze of Sark's impossibly blue eyes for a couple of moments before looking down and nervously tucking her hair behind her ear.  
  
  
"I; figured that was the reason," Sark replied.  
  
  
Sydney nodded and they were silent again. After a while, Sydney chuckled and said, "We; don't seem to have much to talk about."  
  
  
"It;'s probably not that we don't have anything to talk about," Sark said.  
  
  
"What; do you mean?" Sydney asked, confused.  
  
  
Sark's gaze locked onto Sydney's as he said, "It;'s probably the—intimate—setting."  
  
  
Sydney's heart hammered in her chest and her pulse pounded loudly in her ears and she wondered if Sark could hear it. She looked down when she felt her cheeks growing warm. "You;'re probably right."  
  
  
Silence again.  
  
  
"Perhaps; I should go," Sark suggested.  
  
  
Sydney nodded slowly and stood up when Sark did. "I;'ll walk you out," she said quietly, trying to hide her dejection. She felt Sark's gaze on her back as she walked to the door and wondered what he was thinking of her behavior. She opened the door and looked down at her shoes. "I; guess I'll see you."  
  
  
"You; will," Sark said with a nod and started to leave. Sydney caught his arm and he looked up at her, seeing a mixture of emotions in her eyes, but not one of them was clear enough for him to define.  
  
  
"I;—uh—I wanted to thank you for tonight, for the opportunity to get to know you. It was really—" She looked down for a moment. "It; was really nice."  
  
  
"You;'re welcome." He started to leave again and Sydney stopped him again with her hand on his arm.  
  
  
"Wait;," she said softly. She swallowed hard as Sark's eyes burned into hers. She figured he was trying to read the emotions in her eyes, but she couldn't be sure. She looked down at her hand on Sark's arm and Sark looked down as well. Before Sark looked back up, Sydney had stepped forward and pressed her lips to his. She pulled back after a moment and saw the stunned look in Sark's eyes. She felt her lip begin to quiver and she stepped back, trying to be as far away from him as she could, not wanting to break down in front of him. "I-I;'m sorry, I—"  
  
  
Sark cut her off by closing the distance between them and capturing her lips with his. Sydney wound her arms around Sark's neck, her fingers sliding through his hair. She kissed back eagerly and opened her mouth to Sark's wandering tongue. She felt his hands slide up to the sensitive spot a few inches above her hips. She couldn't suppress the soft moan that escaped her lips and gasped when Sark pulled back.  
  
  
"I; didn't think you wanted this," he said in a husky voice that sent pulsating sensations straight to her core.  
  
  
Catching her breath, Sydney replied, "I; didn't think you did, either."  
  
  
Their lips met again and Sydney slipped her tongue inside Sark's mouth to gently stroke his tongue. Sark brought Sydney closer to him, wrapping his arms around her back and tangling a hand in her hair. Sydney moaned into Sark's mouth as their bodies drew even closer and were finally pressed together.  
  
  
Slowly, Sydney began to walk backwards to lead Sark into her bedroom. The pair reached it rather easily, avoiding knocking anything over that was in the way. Sark shut the door behind them and felt Sydney's hands slide under his shirt and over his chest. He jumped back a bit as Sydney's fingertips glossed over the sensitive skin of his stomach. Sydney grinned and gently tugged at Sark's shirt to bring him closer.  
  
  
Her lips traveled down his neck and her teeth nipped at his rapid pulse. She reached down to grab Sark's shirt and pull it up over his head and he helped her then turned his attention to her neck. Sydney moaned softly and shivered as Sark's mouth on her skin sent shivers down her spine. He lifted Sydney's sweater over her head and reached down to whisk her pants off. They were gone in a flash as were Sark's slacks.  
  
  
The two looked at each other for a moment, breathing heavily, then Sydney stepped forward, pressing her body against Sark's as she pressed her lips to his. Sark took the opportunity the gentle kiss provided to undo the clasp on Sydney's bra and slide the straps down her arms before discarding the material on the floor. Her panties came off as well and Sydney wasn't the only one exposed for long as she slid Sark's boxers off of him. They looked at each other again, and this time Sark was the one to move forward and claim Sydney's lips. His arms went around her and he slowly led her over to the bed and gently lay her down on it.  
  
  
Sydney sighed softly at the welcome weight of Sark's body on hers. She looked up at him and found him looking into her eyes, silently asking her if this was what she really wanted. She nodded slowly and reached a hand behind Sark's head to wrap her fingers around the curls of hair at the nape of Sark's neck as she brought his head towards hers for a kiss.  
  
  
Sark moved slightly and with one swift movement, he was sheathed inside of her. Sydney tossed her head back and her hips lifted involuntarily, letting Sark fill her completely. He started a slow rhythm and Sydney remained still until the pace became more urgent and she matched Sark's movements with her own.  
  
  
Their bodies glistened in the moonlight that poured in from the window. Except for that shred of light, the entire room was dark. The cadence quickened.  
  
  
They drew closer and closer to their final release, both of them searching almost blindly for it. Sydney closed her eyes, letting her other senses take over. Her only thoughts were how much she wanted this, needed this—and wanted and needed Sark. She couldn't allow herself to think about what would happen after because all that was on her mind was falling over the edge into oblivion and taking Sark with her.  
  
  
She cried out then, almost where she wanted to be, but not just yet. Her hands clutched at the quivering muscles in Sark's back and Sark's hands groped for purchase on her hips and the bed sheets.  
  
  
_Ohgodohgodohgodpleasepleaseplease_ were the frantic thoughts running through her head. _Nownownowplease  
  
_  
At that moment, Sark's name was torn from her lips as her body shuddered and she reached absolution. Her hips rose up again as she gasped and Sark went over the edge as well.  
  
  
They collapsed together, Sydney's arms around Sark's neck as he burrowed his head into her shoulder. Their breaths were measured and Sydney closed her eyes again, trying to calm down. She felt tears that she couldn't explain creep into her eyes and she kept them closed, unsure of how Sark would react if he saw the tears. She held him close to her, not wanting to let go, not wanting to shatter the moment.  
  
  
Finally though, she let Sark lay beside her, his elbow propping him up on his side as his soft eyes looked into hers. He saw a tear linger on her eyelid and fall onto her cheek when she blinked. He wiped it away with his thumb before she could and took her hand in his.  
  
  
"What;'s wrong?" he asked gently, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing her knuckles and the tips of her fingers.  
  
  
Sydney closed her eyes at the sensation, then opened them again and looked at Sark, realizing that he was waiting for an answer she wasn't sure she had. "I; think I'm just overwhelmed," she offered meekly, averting her gaze.  
  
  
Sark released her hand and turned her face towards him. "Why;?"  
  
  
Sydney was surprised at the gentle feeling his touch displayed and the genuine concern in his voice, and she suddenly felt extremely vulnerable. She sat up and drew her knees to her chest, resting her chin on them and sighing. "Just; everything lately," she said quietly. "I; think it all came to the surface just now."  
  
  
Sark looked up at her, still propped on his elbow and reached a hand to her chin so she would look at him. "So; it had nothing to do with what just happened? Between us?"  
  
  
Sydney felt her heart breaking at Sark's words. She didn't want him to think that she had cried because of what they had done. When she had said she was overwhelmed, she meant because of finding out that she had lost two years, finding out that Vaughn was married, being thought of as a traitor, being locked up, beginning to feel something for Will, and being shot down by him when she was sure that he felt the same.  
  
  
Obviously Sark didn't know about the last two things, and he never would, but both were definitely significant in terms of Sydney being overwhelmed. She had been lost and broken already and Will doing what he did just made matters worse. Then, she had accepted what she was now surely going to think of as a date proposed by Sark, and had ended up inviting him into her apartment and giving herself completely to him. It was a great deal to comprehend and Sydney was afraid that what had happened with Will might happen with Sark. But, the apprehension in his voice as he asked her if her being overwhelmed had to do with the amazing thing she had just shared with him reassured Sydney that he felt something for her and wouldn't turn his back.  
  
  
She grinned at him and lay back down beside him, capturing his lips in a deep, long kiss. She pulled back, leaving Sark dazed and breathless and smiled at him again. He smiled back and Sydney grasped one of his hands and thread her fingers through his, giving him a serious look.  
  
  
"It; had nothing to do with us," she said sincerely. "It; was a culmination of having my life turned upside-down with the discovery that I had lost two years and that I had no idea how I was going to get back on track and figure things out. I just didn't know how to handle things and I was feeling really lost and alone. Then you asked me out," she said, blushing when Sark's cheeks reddened, "and; I didn't feel so lost and alone anymore. I really jumped at the chance to get to know you, because beyond our past as enemies, I had no idea who you were. In addition to that, there was the fact that I could be myself around you. I didn't have to pretend because the only past we had together was one we would both rather forget. So, I could start over. I could get to know you for who you are and not who you were." She sighed softly. "I; was excited about that. Then, somewhere between the party that night and our date this afternoon, I realized that I felt something for you and I wanted to do more than get to know you. But, a part of me kept saying that you might have it in for me, and you might end up hurting me and I wanted to keep my distance. But then when we talked, and we discussed something as simple but yet revealing about our personalities as what we wanted to be when we grew up, I just—knew—that you weren't going to hurt me. I don't know, it was just—it just felt *right* and I found myself really wanting to explore something with you."  
  
  
Sark kissed her hand again and held it tight. "I; would never hurt you, Sydney. Obviously, when we were on opposite sides, it was expected. But now that we aren't, I can't believe that we were ever enemies. I can't believe what we had to go through to cause harm to one another." He looked down for a moment. "You; mentioned the party. I felt something that night, too. I was talking to you and I realized that you hadn't changed. You were still Sydney. I loved that about you and I found myself wondering how I managed to go two years without having some kind of contact with you. You really made a difference in the lives of so many people, Sydney. I just love that about who you are."  
  
  
Sydney smiled at him and pulled the covers over both of them. She snuggled close to Sark, kissing him softly, then laying her head against his chest as his protective arms went around her. She stayed as close to him as she possibly could, not wanting to ever lose him.  
  
  
Eventually, she closed her eyes and slept, basking in the wonder that was Sark and the realization that she was cared for and appreciated. She didn't feel lost anymore. For the first time in her life, she felt that she had truly been found.  
  
  
**A/N:** *sigh* I'm happy now;) Anyways, there should be a mission soon and, of course, more Sarkney. Also, Will should enter the picture in a bit, so we'll have his reaction to the whole Sarkney thing. Also, be thinking about the oval object because we should find out what it is around the same time as that conversation between two people that I mentioned;x Next chapter should be up in a bit. _À bientôt,_ and, once again, thank you to everyone who has been reviewing;)


	18. Reveal

**Eighteen  
  
Reveal  
  
  
  
**

_Never want to fly  
Never want to leave  
Never want to say what you mean to me  
Never want to run  
Frightened to believe  
You're the best thing about me_  
  
—Savage Garden  
"The; Best Thing"**  
**

  


  
  
The next morning, Sydney woke up to find Sark's arms wrapped securely around her with his chin resting on her shoulder and his cheek against hers. She sighed with content and felt Sark stir.  
  
  
"Morning;," she murmured, taking a chance to see if he was awake.  
  
  
"Morning;, Sydney," Sark whispered sleepily and nibbled on Sydney's earlobe.  
  
  
Sydney reached up to pat Sark's cheek as she giggled and Sark caught her fingers in his mouth before she even got close. "Hey;—" she protested, giggling again.  
  
  
Sark reached a hand up and grasped the hand of the fingers he was currently suckling. He traced circles on Sydney's palm and Sydney's breath caught in her throat as she recalled what had taken place when Sark had picked her up and saw the watch on her wrist.  
  
  
"Did; I find a sensitive spot?" Sark murmured into Sydney's ear.  
  
  
"Maybe;," Sydney said noncommittally.  
  
  
Sark replaced his fingers with his tongue and Sydney couldn't suppress the gasp that escaped her lips at the sensation. " Sark wondered aloud and Sydney was about to smack him for being so smug when suddenly his fingers moved down and began tracing a line from the small of her back all the way up to her neck where he sucked on the extremely tender skin there.  
  
  
" Sydney moaned softly, and Sark moved down a bit so that his mouth could shadow the path his fingers had traced. A soft cry emerged from Sydney as her body trembled with the playful kisses Sark was planting on her spinal column. She spoke, but her voice was jumpy and she stumbled over her words. "This; is—this—um—this is a really interesting way t-to wake up."  
  
  
"I; assume you mean 'interesting' in a good way," Sark whispered as he kissed the back of Sydney's neck and smiled against her skin as another shudder went through her body. Planting one last kiss on her neck, he sat up and stood from the bed.  
  
  
Sydney rolled onto her back and regarded Sark with a raised eyebrow as he began to dress. Sark finished dressing and looked over at Sydney and raised an eyebrow as well.  
  
  
"What;?"  
  
  
"What; do you mean 'what'?" Sydney demanded.  
  
  
Sark blinked.  
  
  
"You;'re just going to leave me like this?"  
  
  
A grin turned up the corners of Sark's mouth as he adjusted the collar of his shirt. "Like; what?"  
  
  
Sydney narrowed her eyes at him. When he continued to look at her with the blank expression in his eyes, Sydney said exasperatedly, "Like; *this*." She looked down, embarrassed, as she clarified. "Hot; and bothered."  
  
  
"Poor; Sydney," Sark said with false sincerity and flashed her a smug grin when she pursed her lips and fixed him with an icy glare.  
  
  
"So; where are you going?" Sydney asked, crawling almost coyly to the end of the bed and sitting on her knees.  
  
  
Sark swallowed and tried not to be influenced by the nude goddess a mere five feet away from him. "I; have a mission briefing to go to."  
  
  
"Oh;?"  
  
  
Sark nodded and crossed over to the bed, gently lifting Sydney as she rose up on her knees to compromise for the height difference. He used one hand to cup the base of her head as they kissed and Sydney pressed her body against his. He did his best to ignore the fact that the stiff nubs of her nipples were tickling him through his shirt and instead ran a hand down her body. A soft moan escaped her lips and Sark fought the urge to smile. He pulled back before things could go any further and Sydney sank down into a breathless heap, staring up at him, her eyes wide with desire.  
  
  
"What;'s the mission?" she asked, feigning interest as she averted her gaze and traced patterns on the bedspread.  
  
  
"As; we have been doing for the last two years, we get another crack at Sloane," Sark said with a shrug.  
  
  
Sydney looked up, her eyes darting back and forth as she searched Sark's face. "What;'s with the nonchalance?"  
  
  
Sark bit his lip and shoved his hands into his pockets. Sydney got up from the bed and began to dress.  
  
  
"Sark;?" she asked warily, vaguely noticing that something had closed around her heart and was making it difficult for her to breathe. Apprehension and fear swept over her and she was suddenly afraid that her initial thought had been correct—Sark *did* have a secret agenda. Perhaps he would just kill her right here, right now—with his bare hands—after he revealed to her that he knew that Sloane wasn't going to be caught because he wasn't really loyal to the CIA.  
  
  
Sark looked over at her, noticing that she was trembling slightly. He realized that he shouldn't have been so cryptic a few minutes before. "Sydney;," he started, taking a step towards her. Sydney took a step back and Sark decided he needed to explain himself now before she ran out of the room and turned him in or—worse yet—killed him. "I; was being nonchalant because for the past two years, it's been the same—we'll receive some intel, send in a team to eliminate Sloane, and he manages to elude us."  
  
  
Sydney crossed her arms over her chest in an attempt to hide her trepidation. "Well;, that's all you had to say. You didn't have to—" she stopped herself and shook her head. She was sick of explaining things. "When; do you leave for the mission?"  
  
  
Sark walked over to her and gently grasped her shoulders as he kissed her forehead. Sydney breathed deeply, drowning in Sark's wonderful scent. "I;'ll tell you, but I need to make certain that you're all right."  
  
  
Sydney looked up, her eyes flashing. "Why; wouldn't I be all right?" she demanded angrily, twisting out of Sark's grasp.  
  
  
"Sydney;," Sark began gently, "I; know that I scared you earlier by giving you the impression that I didn't care if we caught Sloane. I do—I care very much. It's just that it's difficult for me to get excited—if that's the right word—when we get new intel on the matter. We've been stonewalled so many times that going on a mission to find him has become almost like being a working stiff in a cubicle with the same routine everyday. The only difference is, maybe the working stiff will get a memo for a company party, some celebration." Sark stared far into Sydney's eyes, hoping he was getting through to her. "I;'m afraid that will never happen for us."  
  
  
"Maybe; you guys just need someone thirsty for revenge," Sydney declared.  
  
  
"Not; to disappoint you, but I really don't think that matters," Sark said in almost sad-sounding voice.  
  
  
Sydney lifted her chin defiantly. "It; might." She turned Sark's face towards her when he looked away. "I;'m going on this mission."  
  
  
"Sydney;, you have two weeks off. Rest up, then come back to work."  
  
  
Sydney's eyes locked onto Sark's as she repeated, with more intensity, "I;'m going on this mission."  
  
  
Sark turned around and paced, running a hand through his hair. "I;'m not going to defend you in front of Kendall. I really think you should take the time off, then think about returning to work. I don't want something to happen to you in the field."  
  
  
"What; makes you think something would happen to me?" Sydney asked, her blood beginning to boil. Sark was treating her like she'd never been on a mission before just because she had come back from a two-year absence. No one understood that she hadn't changed.  
  
  
"Sydney;, I'm not doubting your skills. I'm just saying that whatever happened to you during those two years has undoubtedly changed your perspective a bit," Sark said, doing his best to explain to her that he was worried that her overwhelming sense of rage towards Sloane might hinder or harm her if she didn't allow herself to calm down and enter the field with a clear head.  
  
  
"Sark;, to all of you, I might have changed or seem like I've changed. I haven't. I'm every bit as qualified as I was before my disappearance. I might not know what happened to me while I was gone, but I know that I still want to bring Sloane down as much as I did two years ago."  
  
  
Sark scratched his chin. He needed to make his point clear. He was beating around the bush because he was afraid to admit that he was terrified of seeing her injured or killed. "I; don't want you hurt, Sydney."  
  
  
Sydney walked over to him and put her hands on his chest. "I; won't get hurt, Sark. But, I need you to support me. I don't need you to go in front of Kendall saying that you don't think I can do my job. I need you to stand behind me."  
  
  
Sark looked into her eyes, her dark amber orbs. "I; want to, Sydney. All I'm saying is, perhaps you should take the time Kendall has given you to get your head back in the game completely. You know we can't mess around with this and you know that you need to be fully focused and not have any distractions."  
  
  
Sydney scoffed and walked away from Sark. "What; makes you think two weeks is going to change anything? Why not two months? Or, for the irony factor, two *years*! What the hell is two weeks going to prove, Sark?"  
  
  
Sark looked down for a moment, studying his shoes. When he looked back up, Sydney had fixed him with a cold stare. He flung the same look right back at her. "While; this is obviously a losing battle, I'm still not going to cede. You can have things your way. You can go to Kendall and say you want a part in this mission and I won't tell him you aren't ready if he asks my opinion. But, I certainly won't tell him that I believe you *are* ready—you'll have to do that yourself if you truly believe that you should take a role in the assignment."  
  
  
"Fine.;"  
  
  
"Sydney;?"  
  
  
"What;?"  
  
  
Sark strode up to Sydney and captured her lips with his, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. He released her mouth and gently pushed her head on his shoulder, resting his cheek against her hair as he held her. Sydney slid her hands up and placed them on Sark's chest as she sighed against his shirt.  
  
  
Sark spoke quietly. "You; have to believe me when I tell you that all I'm concerned about is your safety, especially since *we* just—began—something here. Do you really think I want this to be over before it even gets a chance to start?"  
  
  
Sydney pulled back and looked up at Sark, her hands still on his chest and her fingers absently brushing over the material of his shirt now and then. She smiled a bit because there was a playful tone in Sark's voice and laughter in his eyes. She figured it must be hard for him to tell her what he just had without maintaining a detached air because he was afraid of losing her. She wondered, then, what his relationship had been with Allison Doren and scorned herself for acting so calloused when the subject of her had been brought up on their date. She was beginning to find it increasingly difficult to hold Sark's gaze, so she simply leaned back into his embrace, her forehead in the crook of his neck.  
  
  
"I; know it's probably difficult for you to just come out and say that you're afraid of losing me. Not that I'm trying to be selfish and think that everything is about me, but I know what it's like to feel like I have to stay divorced from a situation with someone I care about because I'm afraid of getting the person in too deep by revealing too much or doing something that could cause harm to that person. But I also know that maybe it's best to be attached, to put our feelings out in the open rather than not having the person know what we truly feel." She sighed a bit and closed her eyes. "I; could be wrong. Maybe you don't feel any of that and maybe it's just an unconscious feeling to not want to see someone you know or whatever hurt. Or, maybe you're just not there yet. Maybe you're keeping me at arm's length until we get to know each other better and you can open up." She laughed a bit and pulled back. "I;'m sorry I'm rambling."  
  
  
"It;'s fine," Sark said with a chuckle. "Besides;, I like to hear your voice."  
  
  
Sydney grinned. "Your; voice isn't too shabby, either."  
  
  
"Why;, thank you," Sark said, leaning in for a kiss. When they pulled apart, Sark said, "I;'m not exactly stellar at the whole concept of a relationship. I'll just say that I care about you a great deal and I really would like to see where this goes, provided nothing happens to prevent it from going anywhere."  
  
  
Sydney nodded slowly and suddenly cocked one eyebrow as a thought entered her head.  
  
  
"What;?" Sark asked.  
  
  
Sydney blushed and grinned sheepishly. "Will; doesn't know you're here."  
  
  
"Is; that bad?"  
  
  
Sydney bit her lip and started to turn away when Sark grasped her arm. She looked up at him, her eyes reflecting some sort of regret.  
  
  
"Is; there something you're not telling me?" Sark asked, his eyes clouding over and guarding his expression.  
  
  
"N-no;, it's just that—"  
  
  
"Sydney.;"  
  
  
Sydney sighed. "It;'s nothing really."  
  
  
"Then; if it's nothing, you should have no problem telling me what it is, correct?" Sark asked, and Sydney glared at him, hoping to reprimand him with her eyes for treating her like a child.  
  
  
"Actually;," Sydney said thoughtfully, "it;'s really none of your business."  
  
  
"So;," Sark began, "if; I walked out there right now and said 'hello' to him, he wouldn't think anything of it?"  
  
  
"  
  
  
"*Sydney*," Sark said again, this time emphasizing her name.  
  
  
"We; kissed, all right?" Sydney said in an exasperated tone. "Yesterday; morning, on the couch. Nothing happened after that."  
  
  
"Nothing; happened?"  
  
  
"No.;"  
  
  
Sark ran a hand through his hair. "Sydney;, if I'm getting between you two—"  
  
  
"You;'re not," Sydney insisted. "The; whole thing is complicated, but it's over now. Nothing's going on with us and you're not getting between anything because there is nothing to get between."  
  
  
"Whatever; you say," Sark said, putting his hands up. "If; you say there's nothing to get between, then there's nothing."  
  
  
"Thank; you."  
  
  
"Now;, we'll need to make whatever confrontation there is going to evidently be quite brief, because I still have to go get my car, go home, shower and change, then go to work," Sark said, starting for the bedroom door.  
  
  
"Okay;," Sydney said, straightening her turtleneck and wiping her sweaty palms on her khakis. She opened the door first, extremely nervous about how she would even begin to explain to Will why Sark was in the apartment. She walked out cautiously and was surprised to see that Will was nowhere to be found. She breathed a sigh of relief and hoped that Sark hadn't heard it. Just then, she heard a door open down the hall and saw Will emerge from his room. She swallowed hard and tried to ignore the angry look in his eyes. "Hey.;"  
  
  
"Yeah;, hey," Will said, his tone clipped as he walked past her, giving Sark a brief nod and sauntering into the kitchen.  
  
  
Sydney avoided Sark's eyes when he looked over at her and carefully made her way to the kitchen where Will was diving into a box of Total that Sydney had purchased during her shopping venture the day before.  
  
  
"I;'m glad you went shopping, Syd," Will said casually, his back towards her as he pulled a bowl from a nearby cabinet and began pouring some cereal into it.  
  
  
"Uh;, yeah, of course," Sydney mumbled, vaguely aware that her shoulders were shaking.  
  
  
Sark sensed from the exchange that there was more to the Sydney and Will situation than Sydney was letting on, but he decided not to ask. If Sydney said it was nothing, he would believe her. He wasn't about to ruin the chance of the relationship developing by not placing his trust in her. Even so, he raised his voice as he said, "Well;, I must be off for work." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Will glance over his shoulder. Sark raised his eyebrows at Sydney and hoped she would play along with what he was about to do. Placing his hands on her hips, he lowered his lips to hers and was thankful when Sydney moved closer to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, sighing softly into his mouth.  
  
  
Sydney overplayed the kiss for two reasons. The first being that she knew Sark wanted to display to Will that something was going on between them and the second being that she wanted to punish Will a bit for acting the way he did after their kiss on the couch. Sydney decided that it didn't matter now that she still felt something towards Will—he had rejected her and that was all that was important.  
  
  
She pulled back from Sark, completely breathless, and looked into his oceans of blue. "I;'ll see you later."  
  
  
Sark nodded and kissed her again, his thumbs hooking into the belt loops of Sydney's pants. He pulled back and looked over at Will who had turned his attention back to his cereal and was now pouring in some milk. "See; you," Sark said when he turned back to Sydney. He walked to the door and tossed over his shoulder, "See; you at work, Will."  
  
  
"Looking; forward to it," Will said, digging around in a drawer for a spoon.  
  
  
Sark left after flashing Sydney a quick smile. Sydney let out a content sigh as she took a seat at the table where Will, who had finally found a spoon, was now sitting.  
  
  
"Good; morning," she said cheerily, smiling at him.  
  
  
"Sure;," Will said, munching on his cereal.  
  
  
Sydney was silent for a moment, then blurted, "Look;, Will—"  
  
  
"How; can you do this?" Will demanded.  
  
  
Sydney looked at him blankly, but her tone was as vicious as his. "How; can I do what?"  
  
  
"*This*!" Will said, gesturing with a hand. "How; can you—be—with Sark or whatever you're doing?"  
  
  
"Excuse; me, when did you start dictating who I can be with and who I can't?" Sydney questioned, her voice reaching a dangerously high volume.  
  
  
Will stood up and took his bowl of half-eaten cereal to the sink and started pouring it down the drain. "So; yesterday, then—yesterday meant nothing to you?"  
  
  
"'Yesterday'?" Sydney asked with mock confusion. "Oh; right, was that the day that you kissed me and then told me you did it to get me to shut my mouth?"  
  
  
Will clenched his teeth. "So; I mess up once and that means you have to give up on me and go fuck the first guy that you see?" He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth but he needed to be harsh. He knew he had been wrong to blow Sydney off like he did but he had only done it because her eager response to his kiss had scared him. He still loved her and nothing would ever change that.  
  
  
Sydney felt a round of sobs form in her throat and she fought against them as best she could. "You; son of a bitch," she spat, and Will looked at her with a shocked and hurt expression on his face. "You; reject me when I show you I want you and then you think you have the right to trivialize what Sark and I have! How dare you?! How *dare* you even form an *opinion* of a relationship I have!" Her eyes flashed dangerously. "I; can't believe I even *thought* I could have feelings for someone like you." She turned away quickly and started for the door. Will was right behind her and he grabbed her wrist, causing her to quickly turn towards him and roughly pressed his lips to hers. Momentarily stunned, Sydney let Will kiss her until she was able to collect herself and push him away.  
  
  
Will opened his mouth to speak, but whether it was to apologize or tell her he loved her, he wasn't sure. He saw the tears in her eyes and watched as she grabbed her keys and her coat and hurried out the door, slamming it shut behind her. He started to step back towards the table and had to grip the edge of the counter because his legs were numb. He collapsed into a chair and brought a fist down heavily on the table, the sound reverberating about the room. He put his face in his hands and let the silence that now surrounded the room fill his consciousness.  
  
  
**A/N:** Oy vey:X I wasn't exactly planning that Syd and Will fight, but I guess it was necessary, and they both have good points. *shrugs* I still don't know if this will ever go back to S/W, but for now, I'm sticking with Sarkney. S/W is cute, but Sarkney is just downright *HOT*. Ahem;x Ah yes, the oval object. I think I mentioned in my last A/N that I'll be revealing it soon as well as having that conversation. Anyways, thanks to everyone who has been reviewing! *hugs* I love you all! The next chapter should be up soon. I still can't believe this chapter was so long though Ah well. _À bientôt_!


	19. Vigor

**Nineteen  
  
Vigor  
  
  
  
**

Sydney swallowed her tears as she drove to the CIA. She looked down at her clothes and realized that anyone who invaded her standard three feet of personal space would notice that she smelled vaguely like men's cologne. And, if their noses were so inclined, that the smell of the cologne lingering on her clothes matched the scent of the cologne Sark wore.  
  
  
She also knew that her clothes were wrinkled and that if her plan held up, she would be walking into a mission briefing that was already in progress while looking incredibly unprofessional and also looking like she had just woken up.  
  
  
She didn't care, though. She didn't care how she looked and even if she did care, she couldn't go back and change. She couldn't be in the same room with Will minutes after he had treated her the way he had.  
  
  
A couple of minutes later, she arrived at the CIA. She killed the engine and got out of her car, throwing her coat on hurriedly and drawing it around her tightly, hoping that it would make the rest of her ensemble look better. She marched into the building, her arms swinging back and forth at her sides as she made her way through the rotunda.  
  
  
She looked around for Kendall, grateful that the people going about their business didn't look up when she walked past. The last thing she needed was to explain herself to a bunch of lowly officers. Before she could grasp what was happening, someone pulled her into a dark corner then shoved her into the nearest women's restroom.  
  
  
It was too dark for her to have seen who had pulled her into the corner and then the restroom and she couldn't see anyway because the person was standing behind her and had a hand firmly clamped over her mouth.  
  
  
"It;'s me," came a familiar voice.  
  
  
Once Sydney regained her breath and her composure, she breathed a sigh of relief and murmured, "Vaughn.;"  
  
  
Vaughn sighed and released her and she turned around to look at him. "I; need to talk to you."  
  
  
Sydney raised an eyebrow. "In; the women's restroom?"  
  
  
Vaughn frowned. "I; couldn't think of anywhere else that was close enough and private."  
  
  
"'Private'?" Sydney echoed. "Vaughn;, what's going on?"  
  
  
Vaughn rubbed his face with his hand and pinched the bridge of his nose. Sydney saw the ring on his finger glisten in the fluorescent lighting of the room, and she gulped. She was long over it, but the ring did nothing but remind her of meeting Vaughn's wife in the store the day before. With that, though, was the pleasant memory of bumping into Sark at the store as well as the memory of what had happened between them later on that night. The lingering feel of his skin on hers made her knees almost buckle and she shook her head slightly so she could focus on whatever Vaughn was going to tell her.  
  
  
"Look;, I know why you came here today."  
  
  
Sydney blanched, suddenly wondering if Sark had said something. "Excuse; me?"  
  
  
"I; know that you're going to try and convince Kendall that you should go on this mission," he told her.  
  
  
Sydney swallowed hard. "Who; told you?"  
  
  
Vaughn gave her a blank look. "What; do you mean?"  
  
  
you?" Sydney asked again, enunciating each word.  
  
  
"Syd;, no one told me. I figured that Will mentioned the mission to you in passing and you decided you wanted a part of it," Vaughn explained. "Why; would you think someone told me?"  
  
  
"No; reason," Sydney said abruptly.  
  
  
Vaughn nodded. "Anyway;, I don't think you're ready."  
  
  
"Vaughn;, who are you to judge me?"  
  
  
Vaughn looked down at his feet, the impact of her words hitting him rather hard. "Look;, Syd, I'm concerned for your safety."  
  
  
"Everyone; is 'concerned for my safety'!" Sydney burst out, then bit her tongue for speaking so candidly. She had managed to skirt the issue the first time, now she was in deep trouble if Vaughn asked what she meant by what she said.  
  
  
"Syd;, I just think—" he stopped himself, Sydney's last sentence sinking in. "What; do you mean, 'everyone'?"  
  
  
Sydney swallowed the lump in her throat and tried to move past him and get to the door. Vaughn blocked her path and Sydney scoffed. "Don;'t be immature."  
  
  
"*I'm* being immature? *You're* the one who wants to go gallivanting off to find Sloane when your head is clearly not in the right place!" Vaughn roared.  
  
  
"Maybe; my head would *be* in the right place if you fucking people would let me do my *fucking* job!" Sydney shot back.  
  
  
"Syd;, Kendall didn't give you that two weeks for nothing," Vaughn said, lowering his voice.  
  
  
"I; don't care, Vaughn," Sydney said, lowering her voice as well, "I; just want you people to trust me."  
  
  
"We; *do* trust you, Syd."  
  
  
"No; you don't!" Sydney burst out. "If; you *trusted* me we wouldn't be having this conversation right now! We wouldn't be discussing whether I should or should not go on this mission!"  
  
  
Vaughn rubbed his face with his hand again and Sydney caught sight of his ring for the second time during their conversation. "Syd;—"  
  
  
"Why; don't you just go home to your little wife? Maybe you can bore *her* with this crap." She started by Vaughn again and he grabbed her arm roughly, his eyes piercing her with the ferocity in them.  
  
  
"Look;, you may be pissed about all of this and the fact that you should really be home figuring things out than prancing around here like nothing's changed, but I will not accept you talking about the woman I love that way."  
  
  
"I; think you know how much that hurts me," Sydney said quietly.  
  
  
Vaughn released her arm. "I; didn't mean to hurt you, Syd. I was just trying to make a point."  
  
  
"I; don't think I want you calling me 'Syd' anymore," Sydney mused, "or; 'Sydney.'"  
  
  
"Why; is that?"  
  
  
"Like; you said in Hong Kong, Vaughn, things *are* different between us now. I think we should keep our work relationship intact and avoid the pleasantries." She shrugged. "Things; aren't what they used to be and we shouldn't pretend that they are."  
  
  
"So; what am I supposed to call you?" Vaughn demanded.  
  
  
Sydney sighed and said, "Oh;, I don't know, Vaughn, how about—"  
  
  
"By; that token," Vaughn began, interrupting her, "you; shouldn't call me 'Vaughn' anymore."  
  
  
"Fine;, I'll call you '*Agent* Vaughn,'" Sydney said simply. "How;'s that?"  
  
  
Vaughn was momentarily taken aback at Sydney's quick acquiescence to his suggestion. He recovered, though, and said, "I;'ll call you 'Agent Bristow,' then."  
  
  
"Good;," Sydney said with a nod, "I;'m glad we're on the same page, *Agent* Vaughn."  
  
  
"As; am I, *Agent* Bristow," Vaughn agreed.  
  
  
"I; have to go," Sydney said, her tone softening.  
  
  
Vaughn nodded and stepped away from the door. "I;'ll see you around."  
  
  
"Yeah;," Sydney said quietly, and walked out.  
  
  
  
  
A while later, Sydney had collected her cash and was sitting in the conference room waiting for the briefing to start. Except for her, the room was empty. After she had retrieved her money, she ran into Sark who said the briefing would start in a short while. He didn't talk to her long, for fear someone would figure out that there was something between them.  
  
  
Sydney understood and looked longingly into his eyes before he went to his desk, wishing she could kiss him. The same desire was reflected in Sark's eyes and Sydney felt relieved that this was killing him as much as it was killing her. For a moment, Sydney even considered pushing him onto the nearest desk, sending papers and files scattering onto the floor as she ripped off his clothes and hers and took him right there in front of everyone.  
  
  
She refrained though, but filed away the fantasy just in case she and Sark were ever working late one night and were in the building alone.  
  
  
Now, she simply sat in a comfortable leather chair, absently drumming her fingernails on the large table in front of her, finding a comforting enjoyment in the steady tapping sound that was produced every time her nails brushed the surface. She checked her watch, ignoring the urge to throw it against the wall because it was a gift from Will with whom she was still upset and shivered involuntarily when her body finally registered that the air conditioning was up too high.  
  
  
She crossed her arms over her chest and looked around, a tingling feeling creeping up the back of her neck and making her feel as if she were being watched. She was nervous because she had no idea how the meeting would go. She didn't know if whoever walked into the room would be shocked at her presence and immediately tell her to leave, or if they would file in and act cordial while they awaited her explanation.  
  
  
A shiver ran down her spine. Perhaps she should just leave and not bother with any of this. She didn't really want to explain herself again as she had already to Sark and Vaughn, especially since she'd be facing at least three or four times as many people.  
  
  
"I; can't do this," she muttered under her breath and bolted from the chair, heading for the doorway. She couldn't stifle the gasp that escaped her lips when she ran smack into Kendall. She licked her suddenly dry lips and stammered, "I-I; was just leaving."  
  
  
"Sit; down Agent Bristow," Kendall ordered, walking around her and striding over to the head of the table.  
  
  
"But; I—"  
  
  
"*Sit*."  
  
  
"Yes; sir," Sydney said quietly, avoiding the stares of the other people who had begun to file into the room. Folding her arms across her chest again, she reclaimed the seat she had previously occupied.  
  
  
Kendall took his seat and Sydney took the time to glance around and see who was all in attendance. She relaxed when she saw that besides Kendall and her father, she knew none of the other people in the room. She looked over at her father to find him giving her his best "I;'m disappointed in you" look. She cowered beneath his unwavering stare and looked down at her lap where her hands were now resting.  
  
  
"So;, Agent Bristow, what's your reason for being in here today when I gave you two weeks off?" Kendall asked, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands on his stomach.  
  
  
Sydney bit her lip and avoided Kendall's gaze, trying to think of a good lie.  
  
  
"I;'m waiting, Ms. Bristow," Kendall said impatiently, fixing his gaze on Sydney.  
  
  
_Damn it,_ Sydney thought, _can't he shut up for a minute so I can collect my thoughts?  
  
_  
"Ms.; Bristow—"  
  
  
"Jesus;!" Sydney exploded. "I;'ve been back for two days and *everyone* has been on my ass! Just give me a *break*!" Her cheeks were flushed with anger and she was breathing heavily as she cast an icy glare around the room.  
  
  
"Agent; Bristow, I don't know who the hell you think you are, but just because you're an unquestionably valuable asset to this agency doesn't give you the right to—"  
  
  
"That;'s just it," Sydney interjected, looking over at Kendall with her eyes flashing, "you; don't think of me as a person with feelings. All you care about is whether or not I can provide you good intel or bring back a Rambaldi artifact or whatever it is you send me to do! You don't care that I *lost* two years of my life and probably two of the closest friends I've ever had and I've only been back for two Goddamn days!"  
  
  
"Look;, while I understand that you—"  
  
  
"Kendall;," Jack broke in, giving him a warning glance.  
  
  
"Yes;, Jack?" Kendall said in a rather exasperated tone as he let out a sigh and rubbed his forehead.  
  
  
"While; Sydney may not have gone about this the best way," Jack began, glancing over at Sydney who dropped her gaze to the table, "she; is certainly right."  
  
  
"Jack;, I gave your daughter two weeks off. It's not my problem if she chooses to ignore that," Kendall said defensively.  
  
  
"That; may be true," Jack continued, "but; as Agent Vaughn told us, she wanted to be a part of this mission because in her mind nothing has changed and *she* certainly has not changed. You telling her that she is nothing more than an employee of this agency isn't helping matters any and is going to simply drive her away."  
  
  
Sydney appreciated her father sticking up for her, but she clenched her hands into fists because her father and Kendall had found out through Vaughn. How did Vaughn know what was best for her anyway? Who was he to say that she wasn't prepared to go out into the field so soon?  
  
  
"So; Agent Vaughn told you that I wanted to be a part of this?" Sydney cut in before anyone else could speak, careful to use "agent;" when she spoke of Vaughn so that she could get used to the agreement they had made.  
  
  
"'Agent' Vaughn?" Kendall said, amused. "Didn;'t you always just call him 'Vaughn'?"  
  
  
"What; does it matter to you what I call him?" Sydney demanded, crossing her arms over her chest again.  
  
  
Kendall shrugged and a smirk stole over his features. "It;'s just that you two seemed rather *close* judging by the footage we found—do you remember that?" Kendall leaned forward and rested his forearms on the table. Sydney bit her tongue hard enough to bring blood and she tasted the coppery liquid in her mouth before it finally slid down her throat. "I; mean, obviously he's married now, but can you really detach yourself so easily?"  
  
  
Jack was about to tell Kendall off when Sydney jumped up from her seat. "That;'s it! You had your chance, I am *through* here." She started for the door and Jack stood up as well, shooting daggers at Kendall with his eyes, clearly wishing he could slam him on the table and strangle him. Sydney turned around when she got to the door. "I; should have stuck to my original promise. Destroy SD-6 and then leave. But no, you convinced me to stick around. Imagine, none of this ever would have happened if I had walked away."  
  
  
Kendall started to speak but Sydney cut him off.  
  
  
"You; ruined my life." She scoffed a bit, then said through clenched teeth, "I; hope to *God* you're happy." She left the room, vaguely aware that her father was on her heels. She was trembling all over and extremely close to tears as she found a quiet corner hidden away from the bustling people in the rotunda.  
  
  
Jack found her with a hand propping up her opposite elbow as her other hand wiped at her eyes and nose. She lurched forward with every devastating sob and her whole body shook with the aftershock of each. Jack walked over to her and she tried to calm down, embarrassed to be seen this vulnerable in front of him. Jack put his hands on her shoulders for a moment before taking Sydney into his arms and cradling her against his chest.  
  
  
"Daddy;, I don't want to do this anymore. I can't take the pain. Everyone is against me," she whispered, surrendering to more sobs. She lowered her voice even more and said, "Now; I understand why people commit suicide."  
  
  
Jack grasped her shoulders and pushed her back so he could look into her eyes. "Sydney;, don't you dare start thinking like that."  
  
  
"I;'m sorry Dad," she whispered hoarsely, "I; always did disappoint you, didn't I?"  
  
  
Jack stared into her soft dark amber eyes, trying to find the best way to fix everything that had been broken. He pulled a handkerchief from the breast pocket of his suit and gently wiped Sydney's eyes, then gave her the cloth so she could blow her nose. Sydney murmured her thanks and did so, then put the handkerchief in her coat pocket, knowing it would be foolish to ask her father if he wanted it back. She gazed up at him for a moment before quickly looking down, as his eyes burning into hers made her feel more vulnerable than she ever thought she could feel. Jack seemed to notice this and wrapped her in his arms again, smoothing her hair with one hand and gently rubbing her back with the other.  
  
  
"I; want you to stay at my apartment for a while," he told her.  
  
  
Sydney pulled back. "Why;?"  
  
  
"I; want you to."  
  
  
Sydney expected more of an explanation but let it slide and simply nodded. "I; need to pack a few things."  
  
  
"Of; course," Jack said.  
  
  
Sydney bit her lip. "Dad;?" Jack raised his eyebrows. "Thank; you."  
  
  
Jack didn't respond, but simply kissed her forehead and wrapped an arm around her shoulders to lead her out to their respective cars.  
  
  
**A/N:** :\ Poor Syd:*( Anyway, we're still moving sort of slow-ish even though the chapters are really long-ish. But, that's okay, because I intend to nurture this thing fully. Thanks to everyone who has been reviewing and staying with this story, you're all very encouraging and I really appreciate getting so much awesome feedback;) Ah, _je dois écrire le chapître prochain_! Wait, before I do that, I have a rather *cryptic* message for you: the conversation and the things revealed in said conversation will (hopefully) shock you;) _À bientôt_!


	20. Rebel

**Twenty  
  
Rebel  
  
  
  
**

Jack decided Sydney should drive back to her place and pack, then they would immediately go to his apartment afterwards. In addition, Sydney suggested that she open a checking account before she went home to pack so that she wouldn't be carrying around so much money. Jack had agreed, and went in with her to the bank just in case she needed a quick explanation for any discrepancies.  
  
  
Luckily, things worked out.  
  
  
A while later, Sydney was parking her car in front of her apartment and Jack was parking his car behind hers. Sydney got out, drawing her coat closer around her. She glanced over her shoulder at her father who was simply waiting in his car for her to gather what she needed.  
  
  
Sydney saw that Will's car was still in the driveway and figured that he was probably going into work later in the day. Her hand trembled slightly as she turned the key in the lock and opened the door. When she walked in, she noticed that the bathroom door was closed, so she assumed Will was showering. She went to her room and pulled out her suitcase, then rifled through her closet and bureau for clothes and whatever else she needed.  
  
  
When she was finished, she zipped up the suitcase and set it on the floor, then looked around her room. She glanced over at her bedside table and spotted a small box. She knew what was in the box, so she picked it up gingerly and put it in one of the outer pockets of the suitcase. She wasn't sure why she was taking it, but a part of her told her it might make whatever room she was staying in at her father's apartment feel more comfortable to her. Despite what had happened just before she disappeared, the items in the box provided her with a comfort she couldn't quite explain.  
  
  
Sighing a bit, Sydney rolled the suitcase on its wheels out into the living room. Will came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and his upper body glistening with water beads.  
  
  
"Syd;?" he asked tentatively, raking a hand through his wet hair.  
  
  
Sydney turned around, acutely aware that she was shivering. "H-hi.;"  
  
  
Will looked down and kept a hand on the towel to keep it from slipping. "Sorry;, I uh—just finished my shower and you weren't here, so—"  
  
  
"It;'s okay," Sydney assured him. She tried to ignore the fact that he looked damn good in nothing but the towel, but it was hard to truly put that in the back of her mind when it was right in front of her.  
  
  
"What;'s with the suitcase?"  
  
  
Sydney swallowed the lump in her throat. Now came the hard part. "I;—well—my dad said that he wanted me to stay with him for a while."  
  
  
Will's eyes widened. "Is; everything okay? With him? I mean, he never mentioned—"  
  
  
"No;, no, it's not him," Sydney said, looking down at the floor.  
  
  
"So; he—" Will stopped himself and nodded. He decided he needed to apologize before she left to stay with her father for a while, or—worse yet—stay there forever. "Look;, about this morning—"  
  
  
"Will;, don't," Sydney begged. "Please;, don't."  
  
  
Will walked over to her and was relieved when she didn't try to move away from him. "Sydney;, I need to apologize to you for this morning. I was a complete asshole and I had no right to say what I said. I love you, damn it, and I don't want you to hate me because I blew up at you. I'm so sorry, Syd."  
  
  
"It;'s okay," Sydney said quietly.  
  
  
"Are; you sure?" Will asked. "I; don't want you to be doing this for my benefit. If things aren't okay, tell me, and I'll try to fix them. I don't want you to tell me things are fine, but you go around hating me or are afraid of me, and our friendship isn't what it used to be. Just tell me what do to make things right."  
  
  
Will kept one hand on the towel but lifted the other to Sydney's hair and gently ran his fingers through it, his thumb tenderly brushing her cheek. Sydney looked up at him, into his brilliant sapphire eyes and thought about when she had first realized she felt something for him. She had told herself she would wait because she knew she couldn't lose Will as a friend because of her delicate condition. And here she was—she had nearly lost him completely. She felt a tear sting her eye and she stepped forward and threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder.  
  
  
"I; love you, Will," she whispered.  
  
  
Will wrapped one arm around her, afraid to let go of the towel. He smoothed her hair and rubbed her back. "I; love you too, Syd." Sydney hugged him tighter. "I;'d use both arms to hug you, but I fear the towel will slip."  
  
  
Sydney laughed then and sniffed back her tears. "I; don't have a problem with that," she whispered, giggling.  
  
  
"Hey;!" Will said playfully. They separated after a moment and looked into each other's eyes. Will had his hand in Sydney's hair again, and each time his thumb brushed her cheek, he'd wipe away a tear. "I; love you so much, Syd. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you."  
  
  
"I; don't either," Sydney said, taking a moment to realize just how true that statement was. "Why; have you always been so good to me?"  
  
  
Will smiled at her. "It;'s my job." Sydney raised an eyebrow. "You;'re my best friend and I love you, and I don't have a choice but to be the best friend I can be to you."  
  
  
Sydney stepped forward and hugged him again, reaching down to pry his hand away from the towel and slip his arm around her. He reluctantly did so and the towel stayed in place. Sydney realized then that her coat was getting damp from the excess water on Will but she didn't care. She held him close to her for a while, then finally pulled back, looking into his eyes to find that there were tears in them. She reached up to touch his cheek, her fingertips running over the stubble that she loved. She leaned forward and kissed him, melding her lips to his for a couple of seconds before stepping back.  
  
  
"I;'ll see you in a few days, I guess, depending on how long my dad wants me to stay."  
  
  
Will nodded and stole a kiss of his own, needing to find some closure to the whole thing just as much as she did. "I;'ll see you soon."  
  
  
Sydney nodded as well. "Oh;, I need a few things from the bathroom."  
  
  
Will grinned as she walked past him to the bathroom and began putting some things into a small toiletry bag. She walked back out to the living room, stuffing the bag into her suitcase, and Will asked, "You;'re sure you have everything?"  
  
  
"I; think so."  
  
  
"All; right, well, have fun." He grinned and Sydney batted his arm.  
  
  
"I;'ll see you," she said, laughing.  
  
  
"See; you."  
  
  
Sydney left.  
  
  
  
  
A few minutes later, Jack and Sydney were walking into Jack's apartment, not far from where Sydney lived. Sydney hung up her coat and looked about the living room as Jack stood behind her, blushing slightly as his daughter surveyed her surroundings.  
  
  
"I;'ll show you to your room," Jack said, walking past her and towards the hallway. Sydney smiled gratefully at him and he gave her a small nod.  
  
  
They entered a rather large room that was completely furnished and had walls that were painted a dark forest green to match the rest of the room. Sydney found herself impressed with her father's flair for decorating and she told him so.  
  
  
"I; always liked dark green," he said almost sheepishly and Sydney hid a grin. "I;'ll leave you to get settled." He left the room and closed the door behind him.  
  
  
Sydney set down her suitcase and flopped on the bed, stretching out and resting her arms behind her head as she looked up at the ceiling. She remembered she was wearing day-old clothing and got up from the bed and went to her suitcase. She retrieved the bag in which she had packed soap and the like, then left the room and went to find her father. She found him seated at the table in the kitchen, drinking a glass of milk. He looked up when she came in the doorway.  
  
  
"Is; it all right if I use your shower?"  
  
  
"Obviously;, Sydney, seeing as you'll be staying here for a few days at least," Jack replied.  
  
  
Sydney looked down a moment and said quietly, "I; know, but it just feels sort of odd. I mean, *this* feels odd." She glanced up at him and noticed a confused look in his eyes and she tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear as she looked down again.  
  
  
"What; does?"  
  
  
"This;—this bonding thing," Sydney said, catching her father's gaze again, then looking down.  
  
  
"'Bonding,'" Jack murmured.  
  
  
Sydney's eyebrows knitted. "Yeah;, I mean, wouldn't you call this 'bonding'?"  
  
  
Jack gave a noncommittal shrug of his shoulders and Sydney felt her heart sink and she swallowed hard. She couldn't understand why he had come to her with open arms but was still trying to keep her at a distance. Sydney gripped the doorframe.  
  
  
"Why; do you do this?" she asked, locking her gaze onto her father's.  
  
  
"Why; do I do what?" Jack asked impatiently.  
  
  
"Act; like you want to get to know me or help me or just do the father thing, then push me away," Sydney said, fighting to keep her voice steady.  
  
  
"I; don't know what you're talking about," Jack said, taking a long drink of his milk, then setting down the glass and sighing.  
  
  
Sydney gripped the doorframe tighter. "Maybe; this was a bad idea, then."  
  
  
"No;," Jack said, looking up at her.  
  
  
"Why; not? You're pushing me away again, like you always do," Sydney said, still looking into her father's eyes.  
  
  
Jack stood up and walked over to her. Sydney didn't move and instead, kept her gaze focused on him. She knew there were tears in her eyes and she had no doubt that her father could see them, but she didn't want to give up her end of the fight.  
  
  
"I; was never very good at the parenting aspect," Jack said slowly.  
  
  
"Believe; me, I know," Sydney said, scoffing. "You; were never there for me, and even in the few times that you were, you acted like it was a chore."  
  
  
"You; didn't exactly come with a book on how you should be raised," Jack said defensively.  
  
  
"Yeah;, well, other parents manage just fine. You decided to take advantage of me and mold me into a spy," Sydney contested hotly.  
  
  
"Sydney;," Jack said through gritted teeth.  
  
  
"What;?" she asked. "Am; I hitting a nerve?" A _thwack_ sliced through the air as the back of Jack's hand solidly connected with Sydney's cheek. Sydney looked up at him, the force of the slap bringing tears to her eyes. She gingerly touched her face where her skin stung as she knew it would. She kept her cold demeanor in place as she said, "I; don't regret what I said."  
  
  
Jack shook his head. "I; don't expect you to."  
  
  
Sydney narrowed her eyes at him. "Then; why did you hit me?"  
  
  
Jack shrugged and walked back over to the table to sit down. Sydney slumped against the doorframe. Seeing that her father either didn't have an answer or was simply going to let her figure it out on her own, Sydney decided to speak. Her voice was rough.  
  
  
"Maybe; I deserved it."  
  
  
Jack said nothing, only took a sip of his milk and wrinkled his nose in distaste because it wasn't ice cold anymore. Sydney would have smirked but she wasn't at all in the mood. She loosened her grip on the bag in her hand and watched as her father finished off the milk in the glass.  
  
  
"I;'m sorry I was a bitch," she said simply, then took off down the hall towards the bathroom before her father could respond.  
  
  
Sydney nearly slammed the door of the bathroom once she was inside, but she didn't care. She needed to let off steam somehow. She still couldn't believe it, her father had slapped her when she dug into the truth. She knew she was being inconsiderate to him, though, especially since he was her father, but still—she had been right and he couldn't handle it, so he did the only thing he could think of to shut her up.  
  
  
Her breath caught in her throat as she realized what a creepy parallel it had to when Will had kissed her on the couch. She had insisted that they would never find Sloane and Will didn't want to admit that it was probably true. She shuddered at that—what if it *was* true? What if they never *did* find Sloane?  
  
  
She fumbled for the knob in the shower to turn on the water, then stripped quickly. She took her shampoo, soap, and whatnot out of the bag and set it on a small shelf that had been put up in the shower. She regarded herself in the mirror, focusing on the white-on-red imprint of her father's hand on her cheek. She touched it again and found that it still stung.  
  
  
She bit her tongue at the irony.  
  
  
Her hand moved down until it rested on the scar on her stomach. She traced it while looking at it in the mirror, then she looked down at it, her hair falling in her face. She ran a hand through her layers, attempting to push her hair behind her shoulders. She muttered a curse when it fell in her face again and hooked an arm around to let her hair cascade onto her left shoulder, away from her eyes. She pressed gently on the scar, knowing full well it would hurt, and winced as pain shot through her body. She gingerly felt the areas around the scar to feel if anything might be poking at the skin from inside her body.  
  
  
She didn't feel anything out of the ordinary so she sighed and decided she'd worry about what had been implanted in her body another day. She checked the water and found that it was warm enough, so she climbed in, and, for a few minutes, simply let the water beat down on her head and shoulders.  
  
  
She thought about Sark, her body suddenly throbbing with the memory of him inside of her as they moved together in their paced rhythm. She missed him even though they had only been apart a few hours. She found herself thinking of his gorgeous eyes, his curly blond hair, and his adorably endearing crooked bottom lip. She sighed softly.  
  
  
Finally, she washed up, shampooing her hair twice because it felt rather grimy, then turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, plucking a clean-looking towel from a nearby rack. She dried herself and her hair, then wrapped the towel around her, thankful that it was a hell of a lot longer than the one at the Peep Shows R Us shower at the CIA. She put all of her stuff back in the bag she had, self-conscious about leaving the items in the shower even though she would be staying for several days.  
  
  
She brushed her hair and decided to let it dry on its own because she didn't feel like bothering with a blow-dryer. She left the bathroom with her dirty clothes and her bag and went to the room her father had let her stay in. She closed the door behind her and nearly jumped when she heard a knock as soon as she had begun to put her dirty clothes into the empty pocket of her suitcase.  
  
  
"I-I;'m not dressed," she stammered, shoving the rest of the dirty clothes into her suitcase and pulling out a pair of old, faded jeans and a peach-colored tank top. She looked over her shoulder at the door before she slipped off the towel and began to dress. She did so rather quickly, a feeling of nervousness creeping into her stomach and traveling all the way up to her throat where she had to swallow the lump that had risen there. She pulled on her shirt, cursing under her breath because it was short and tight, then dug around in her suitcase looking for a button-down shirt that she could throw over it. She found a white one and thanked her lucky stars that she had decided to pack it.  
  
  
She cast another glance over at the door as she buttoned the sheer top, then ran a hand through her hair before zipping up her suitcase after tossing her bag into it and setting it on the floor. She walked over to the door cautiously after rolling up the sleeves on the shirt. She plastered a smile on her face to disguise her trepidation and opened the door.  
  
  
Sure enough, her father was standing before her with a stony expression on his face. Sydney felt her stomach sink to her feet. "Hi; Dad," she said quietly. She noticed that he wasn't looking into her eyes but rather at the mark his hand had left on her cheek. She swallowed hard and turned away. "Do; you need something?" she asked casually, as her back was turned.  
  
  
"No;," Jack replied, somewhat amused by his daughter's behavior, "I; just wanted to give you the new list of employees' office phone numbers." Sydney spun around. "I; was going to give it you at work, but there wasn't an opportune time." He held out a packet to her and she reluctantly took it from him.  
  
  
"Thank; you," she mumbled. She clutched it to her chest and looked at her father, hoping he would just simply give her a nod and leave. He did, and he closed the door as well. A sigh of relief escaped Sydney's throat and she sat down on the bed, glancing over at the phone on the bedside table. She lay back against the pillows, reaching over and lifting the phone of the hook and calling Sark. She saw that no first names were listed for any of the agents and thought it somewhat odd. She shrugged it off and waited as the phone rang.  
  
  
After a moment, Sark's familiar accent danced its way into Sydney's ear. "Hello;?"  
  
  
"Hey;," Sydney said, unable to prevent the grin on her face from widening.  
  
  
"Sydney;," Sark said with a sigh, "I; called you three times today."  
  
  
"You; did?"  
  
  
"Yes;, and I left three messages," Sark said.  
  
  
"I;'m over at my father's apartment," Sydney explained.  
  
  
"Why;?"  
  
  
"He; just wanted me to stay over here for a while," Sydney said, twisting the phone cord around her left index finger.  
  
  
"What;'s the number over there?"  
  
  
"Um;," Sydney began, "it;'s been two years, but I'm guessing it's the same as it was. It's 555-2522." She faintly heard the sound of a pen scratching on a piece of paper.  
  
  
"All; right. Now, how did you get my number at the office?" Sark asked.  
  
  
"My; dad actually just came in here a minute ago and handed me a list," Sydney said simply.  
  
  
"I; see," Sark murmured.  
  
  
They were silent for a moment.  
  
  
"So;," Sydney began, feeling her cheeks grow warm, "what; are you doing?"  
  
  
"Working.;"  
  
  
"Could; you be a little more vague, Sark?" Sydney asked, feigning annoyance.  
  
  
"Well;, I'm sure I can, but I think it would bore you," Sark said, and Sydney knew he was grinning.  
  
  
"I; want to see you."  
  
  
"Me; too," Sark admitted with a wistful sigh that made Sydney's heart beat faster.  
  
  
"Seriously;, though, what are you doing?" Sydney asked again.  
  
  
"I;'m reading over some mission specs."  
  
  
Sydney's heart sank. "Oh.;"  
  
  
"I; leave tomorrow morning," Sark continued.  
  
  
"Oh;," Sydney said again. "When; will you be back?"  
  
  
"A; few days, I believe," Sark told her, "that; is, assuming everything goes according to plan."  
  
  
"I; want to see you before you leave," Sydney blurted, and she heard her heart hammering in her ears. She also felt her body begin to tingle with anticipation.  
  
  
"I; do, too. When will you be free?"  
  
  
"Anytime; tonight, I guess," Sydney said.  
  
  
"When; will you have to be back? I mean, I don't want to get you in trouble with your father about a curfew or anything," Sark told her, smothering a chuckle.  
  
  
"Shut; up," Sydney said, trying to sound serious, but giggling when Sark began to laugh. "I; thought about you earlier."  
  
  
"Yeah;?"  
  
  
"Mmhmm;," Sydney said, her voice approaching a low, seductive whisper.  
  
  
"What; specifically did you think about?" Sark asked.  
  
  
Sydney could tell that despite his calm tone, he was certainly interested in exactly what she had been thinking about in terms of him. She rested a hand on her stomach, suddenly feeling quite playful. Her fingers teased the flat plane and she sighed softly into the phone.  
  
  
"What; was that?" Sark inquired, his voice a bit husky.  
  
  
"What; was what?" Sydney asked, her voice still low.  
  
  
"That; sigh you just emitted a second ago."  
  
  
"Oh.; *That*." Sydney slid her hand up to the hollow between her breasts.  
  
  
"Yes;," Sark said, sighing into the phone and making Sydney close her eyes involuntarily, "'that.'"  
  
  
Sydney let her voice return to normal as she let her hand drop to her side. "Oh;, it was nothing."  
  
  
"Are; you sure about that?" Sark asked.  
  
  
"Of; course."  
  
  
"I; believe you, I suppose," Sark murmured, "but; it just sounded as if you were having a bit too much *fun*."  
  
  
"'Fun'?" Sydney asked with a laugh. "Sark;, I'm in my dad's apartment, how much 'fun' could I possibly be having?"  
  
  
"Like; I said," Sark began, his voice still low, "'too much.'"  
  
  
Sydney chuckled a bit, then whispered, "So; sue me, Sark—I want you." She thought she heard Sark inhale sharply on the other end, so she moved her hand back up to her breasts.  
  
  
"How; do you want me?"  
  
  
Now it was Sydney's turn to inhale sharply. She considered ending the conversation before it went any farther, but decided she wanted to play a bit more. "Let;'s see," she pondered, "if; I were there, I think I would want you right on your desk as I rip off all of your clothes and straddle you." She was careful to whisper, just in case her father was anywhere near the closed bedroom door.  
  
  
"Quite; a nice fantasy," Sark mused, "and; one we'll definitely have to make reality."  
  
  
Sydney felt a smile form on her lips and she teased a rock-hard nipple through two layers of clothing, gently pinching it and rolling it between her fingers. "What; about you, Sark?"  
  
  
"In; terms of fantasies?"  
  
  
"Mmhmm;," Sydney said, sighing softly as she tweaked her other nipple.  
  
  
"I; never really thought about it," Sark said thoughtfully.  
  
  
"Really;?"  
  
  
"I; have an idea, though," Sark said.  
  
  
"I;'m game," Sydney murmured, letting her hand slide down.  
  
  
"Meet; me at the beach closest to your apartment at eleven tonight," Sark told her.  
  
  
Sydney gulped and her hand fell back to her side. "Um;—okay," she mumbled.  
  
  
"I;'ll see you then," Sark said, and hung up the phone.  
  
  
Sydney put the receiver back in its cradle, suddenly feeling the urge to take another shower.  
  
  
A cold one.  
  
  
**A/N:** Ah, two of my favorite types of Syd's to write in this chapter—Bitchy!Syd and Horny!Syd. Heh, anyways, looks like we'll be getting some smut next chapter (whoo hoo! Ahem;x) and I swear to you we will find out what the oval object is and have that conversation I've been telling you about in either the next chapter or the one after. Get ready though, because this story is going to pick up *very* soon.


	21. Rendezvous

**A/N: **Smut ahead. Proceed with caution;x**  
**

  
  
Twenty-One  
  
Rendezvous  
  
  
  


Sydney sat up and gathered the towel so she could let it dry in the bathroom. She left her room and hoped that her cheeks weren't as red as she feared they were. After a quick foray into the bathroom, Sydney went to the kitchen to find her father at the table with another glass of milk. This time, though, his head was in the paper.  
  
  
"Anything; interesting?" she asked as she went to the refrigerator.  
  
  
"Scott; Peterson got convicted."  
  
  
"Thank; God," Sydney said, heaving a sigh of relief as she closed the door of the refrigerator after pulling out a can of soda.  
  
  
"It;'s definitely about time," Jack agreed.  
  
  
"Yeah;, I mean, the evidence was there from the get-go," Sydney said, popping the top and taking a sip.  
  
  
"He;'s getting the death penalty," Jack told her as he turned the page and took a drink of his milk.  
  
  
"Good;," Sydney said, "I;'m glad." Jack nodded wordlessly. "Why; did it take so long to convict him?"  
  
  
"Peterson; had good lawyers."  
  
  
"Ah;," Sydney mused, "but; still—there was so much evidence from the beginning. I mean, who the hell goes fishing on Christmas Eve?"  
  
  
Jack nodded and they fell into a comfortable silence. Finally, Jack asked, "Who; did you call?"  
  
  
Sydney felt her hands begin to tremble and she grasped the soda can with both. She considered telling him that it was none of his business, but she had no idea how much of the conversation he had heard, if any at all, or if he just knew her better than she thought. "I; called Will," she said finally, focusing on a spiral of color on the soda can. "Why; do you ask?"  
  
  
"No; reason," Jack said almost nonchalantly.  
  
  
Sydney nodded and felt her stomach tighten. She twisted her wrist slightly so she could check the time without being blatantly obvious. She saw that it was after seven already and wondered where the time had gone. She stood up from the table and took a final drink of her soda. "Do; you recycle aluminum cans?"  
  
  
Jack pointed to a small recycle bin and Sydney peered around him to see it, then walked over and dropped the empty can into it. Sydney hooked her thumbs into the back pockets of her jeans and sighed.  
  
  
"What;?" Jack asked.  
  
  
"N-nothing;," Sydney said quickly, "I; just—" She bit her lip. "I; think I'm going to go for a drive. I don't know when I'll be back," she added as an afterthought.  
  
  
Jack stood up and Sydney instinctively shrank back at his menacing presence. She crossed her arms over her chest as she watched her father go to the counter in the kitchen and pick up a key. He walked back over to Sydney and held it out to her.  
  
  
"Spare; key to the apartment," he explained. "Hang; onto it." With that, he sat back down and resumed his reading of the paper.  
  
  
"Thanks;," Sydney mumbled, and went to the door to retrieve her coat. She lingered at the door for a moment, her hand on the knob as she glanced over her shoulder. She considered saying a simple good-bye, but decided against it and left, softly closing the door behind her.  
  
  
  
  
Sydney parked and got out of her car, drawing her coat around her. She slipped off her shoes and socks, balling up the latter and stuffing them into the former. She let the shoes dangle by their heels hooked on the tips of her fingers as she walked down to the sand.  
  
  
She knew she was ridiculously early, but she wasn't sure how much longer she could be in her father's presence before she snapped. She loved him, obviously, but she could only stand to be around him for a limited time before the fact that they didn't have a true father-daughter relationship sunk in and made Sydney uneasy.  
  
  
A strong sea breeze blew past and whipped Sydney's hair about, but she paid no attention to it as she slipped off her coat and lay it on the sand, then sat down upon it. She stretched her legs out in front of her, then leaned back, supporting herself with the heels of her hands. Another breeze strolled past, gently lifting her chestnut locks off her shoulders and letting the strands tango in mid-air.  
  
  
Sydney sighed softly, her gaze focused on the seemingly endless expanse of ocean in front of her and the brilliant orange sun that was just beginning to sink down behind the horizon. She watched the waves of the orange-purple-navy blue tinted sea lap at the shore.  
  
  
A strange feeling came over her. She realized that it seemed as if the waves tried to reach some unattainable destination every time they touched the shore. The smaller waves never got very far but the larger ones did. Even so, it seemed as if no matter how large the wave was, it would never reach any sort of goal—the sand was endless. There was nowhere for the waves to go and nothing for them to obtain. But still, they kept on. The fact that it was a simple force of nature causing the waves to be so insistent didn't matter. They still tried regardless of what was urging them on.  
  
  
She shook her head in disbelief as a smile spread across her face. She was pondering the waves. She tried to pinpoint the exact moment she had gotten to this stage of pathetic.  
  
  
_Oh yeah,_ she thought, the smile fading from her face, but sarcasm creeping up on her, _the day I joined SD-6.  
  
_  
She sat up, drawing her legs under her and resting her hands in her lap. She absently tucked a few strands of hair that had fallen into her face behind her ear. She looked at the sky and noticed that it was growing more violet by the instant. She gazed out at the horizon again, watching the sun sink lower and lower into oblivion. She began to ponder that as well. The sun would rise one day, complete its task of shedding light on the world, then set and allow the world to rest for some amount of hours before rising to the occasion again the next day.  
  
  
For a limited time, the sun would seem to vanish, shrouding the world in darkness, acting as if there was no sun to begin with. Then it would rise up once again, streaming sunlight into the consciousness of human beings and would make its presence known.  
  
  
_Sloane,_ Sydney mused. Her logic needed no explanation.  
  
  
Finally, the sun went down, and the sky was a gorgeous mixture of red-orange, violet, and cerulean blue. She looked at her watch and noticed that it was after eight. She unbuttoned the sheer white shirt she had thrown on over her tank top and folded it up, putting it behind her head as she lay back, her hands behind her head and resting on the shirt, and her legs stretched out with the heels of her feet digging into the warm sand.  
  
  
She closed her eyes and sighed again, wondering if it was possible to be truly happy by simply lying on a beach watching a sunset. Just as she was about to surrender herself completely to sleep, a familiar voice awoke her.  
  
  
"Evening;, Sydney."  
  
  
Sydney smiled, her eyes still closed. "You;'re early."  
  
  
"So; are you."  
  
  
"I; wasn't sure just how much longer I could stand to be with my father before I snapped," Sydney explained.  
  
  
"Ah;," Sark mused, setting down his own coat and sitting beside Sydney. "Are; you sure it was even a good idea to take him up on his offer in the first place?"  
  
  
Sydney grinned again, still keeping her eyes closed and finding something bizarrely comforting about it. "It; wasn't an offer," she said with a sigh, "it; was a demand."  
  
  
Sark chuckled and reached a hand to Sydney's stomach, gently running his fingertips across the flat plane. Sydney shut her eyes tighter, drawing in the sensation more deeply through her other senses. She felt exhilaration course through her at the fact that as long as she kept her eyes closed, she was plunging herself into the unknown. Even though she knew that she was with Sark and it was Sark who was sending tingling feelings to her core each time his fingertips brushed her abdomen, there was still the idea that she couldn't actually see it happening.  
  
  
She let out a soft moan and lifted her hips slightly as Sark moved closer to her. She felt his hand move farther and farther to the right side of the part of her stomach that was exposed by her tank top. She wasn't sure if he had noticed the scar when they had made love the night before, or if he had noticed, but didn't dare ask what it was from. She also didn't know if he had been told about the scar by those at the CIA who knew she had it.  
  
  
Her body began to tremble a bit and she sat up suddenly, drawing her knees to her chest as Sark reluctantly moved his hand away. Sydney knew that Sark was wondering why she had done what she did and she really didn't want to explain her reasoning to him. On that note, though, she also wasn't in the mood to explain the scar or ponder with him exactly what might have been implanted in her stomach.  
  
  
All she wanted to do was spend some time with Sark before he left on the mission to attempt to capture Sloane. She turned towards Sark and saw his mouth open as he began to form his question and quickly sealed his lips with hers, preventing unnecessary conversation. She pushed him down and climbed on top of him, hungrily devouring his mouth and neck. She was relieved that he didn't try to stop her or ask questions and she whipped off her top, exposing her bare breasts.  
  
  
She settled down on top of him, her body pressed against his, stomach to stomach, chest to chest, as she unbuttoned his shirt. She sat up, straddling his legs, and used his unbuttoned shirt to pull him up with her. She pushed his shirt off of his shoulders, leaving him to do the rest as she planted feather kisses on his chest. Sark took off his shirt and tossed it aside, then gently lifted Sydney's head up and softly pressed his lips to hers. His index finger circled one of Sydney's taut nipples and she moaned into his mouth.  
  
  
Sark saw his opportunity and he pressed Sydney down on his coat, their lips still touching as they both fumbled with the buttons and zippers on their pants. Once the pants were gone, Sydney sat up just enough to grasp the waistband of Sark's boxers with her fingers and slide them off his hips. Sark did the rest, discarding them on top of the other clothes. He sat on his knees between Sydney's legs as he took in the sight of Sydney's nearly fully naked form.  
  
  
"You;'re amazing," he said breathlessly, leaning down to capture Sydney's lips. He moved to the side so he could pull off the last article of Sydney's clothing. He slipped two fingers into the elastic and slid the panties down slowly, his fingers purposely grazing her and making her hips rise up as she moaned.  
  
  
Setting the last barrier aside, Sark moved between Sydney's legs again and she lifted herself up to him as he dove into her. She cried out and wrapped her arms around his neck to bring him down towards her as he started to move within her. Her legs wrapped around his hips, drawing him in even deeper and eliciting a groan from him.  
  
  
Sark's teeth nipped at her rapid pulse and he sped up the pace, dragging a long moan out of Sydney that pleased Sark as his mouth traveled downward, nipping and sucking on Sydney's exposed flesh. Sydney shut her eyes, certain that she was seeing stars. She opened her eyes again, seeing the sky a mixture of violet and cerulean as night drew ever closer. She thought she spotted a star twinkling in the distance and her body began to tense as pleasure built up inside of her. Quickly, she thread her fingers through Sark's hair as she brought his mouth up to hers so she could stifle her scream.  
  
  
Sark went over the edge when Sydney did and he buried his head in her shoulder as her fingers soothingly smoothed his hair. After a few minutes, Sark rolled onto his back and lay beside Sydney as they both looked up at the stars. The warm night air kept both of them from shivering and from quickly grabbing for their clothes. Sark flipped over onto his side, propping himself up with his elbow as he gently ran his fingers over Sydney's skin. Inevitably, his fingers found the scar on her stomach and Sydney gasped a bit. Sark seemed to ignore Sydney's reaction and bent his head down to lay feather kisses over the line of the scar.  
  
  
Sydney watched him in awe the entire time, trying to figure out what he was thinking. She sighed a bit, surrendering to Sark's mouth as she folded her arms behind her head. She shivered slightly when she realized how much attention Sark was paying to the scar but wasn't asking her what it was from. She bit her lip and tried to fight the urge to sit up again, like she had earlier, preventing possible questions. She wasn't ready to repeat what had just happened between them, but she was sure she could think of something to take the focus off of the scar.  
  
  
Instead, she decided to plunge into the issue head-on. "What; are you doing?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.  
  
  
Sark looked up at her and saw that despite her relaxed position, she was obviously stressed about something. He traced the scar with his index finger as he looked into her eyes and noticed that she tried to hide a sudden intake of breath.  
  
  
"How; did you get this?" he asked.  
  
  
Sydney sat up, moving away from him as she drew her knees to her chest. She thought about how the situation mirrored their first time together the night before, when she had found herself uncomfortable in having to explain her tears to him.  
  
  
"I; realized that I had it when I was in Hong Kong," she began, "and; when I got home and had to be put through a series of tests and whatnot, it was discovered that something oval in shape had been implanted inside me." She stretched her legs out a bit and traced the scar with her fingers. "If; it's pressed, it hurts." She glanced at Sark and saw that his eyes carried a look of worry and concern. "The; only way to find out what it is requires me having my stomach sliced open so some doctor can poke and prod and see what it is."  
  
  
Sark sat up and sat beside Sydney, his left shoulder brushing her right. He traced the scar again. "Are; you going to have that done soon?"  
  
  
Sydney shrugged. "I;'m not exactly keen on the idea, but I guess I'll eventually have no choice."  
  
  
After a long silence, Sark started to get up. He noticed the confused and hurt look in Sydney's eyes as he began to dress. "I; have to get going. I was contacted just before I left to come here, and was told that our flight was actually moved up a couple of hours."  
  
  
Sydney nodded slowly and began to dress as well. "Who; all is going on the mission?"  
  
  
"Myself;, Agent Vaughn, and Agent Tippin."  
  
  
Sydney's eyes widened. "'*Agent* Tippin'?"  
  
  
Sark was buttoning his shirt when he turned towards Sydney. He returned the equally shocked look that was etched into her eyes. "He; didn't tell you he was a field agent?"  
  
  
"No;!" Sydney burst out. "How; the hell can he possibly be an agent? When did this happen?"  
  
  
"About; a year ago."  
  
  
"A; *year*?!" Sydney shouted in disbelief. "He;'s been a field agent for a *year*?!"  
  
  
"In; case it makes you feel any better," Sark began, straightening his collar, "Will; is very good at what he does."  
  
  
"I; don't understand why he didn't tell me," Sydney said, a wave of hurt flooding over her.  
  
  
"He; was probably too busy trying to make sure you were able to adjust to everything, Sydney. Do you really think you would have leapt for joy had he ignored your feelings and went off on a tangent about how good of an agent he is?"  
  
  
Sydney sighed, defeated. "Probably; not," she admitted. "But; still, he had plenty of time to at least casually mention it to me. Or at least tell me that he was a part of the mission."  
  
  
"I; wouldn't worry about it, Sydney," Sark said, tucking a few errant strands of Sydney's hair behind her ear and brushing her cheek with his thumb. "Besides;, you can yell at him all you want for not telling you when he comes back."  
  
  
A feeling of dread formed in the pit of Sydney's stomach at Sark's words—'when he comes back.' _What if he doesn't?_ Sydney thought with a shudder. "I;'m worried about him," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.  
  
  
"Like; I said, Sydney, he's good at what he does." Sark lifted her chin and looked into her wide dark amber eyes. "He;'ll be fine." He lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers.  
  
  
"Keep; an eye on him for me," Sydney said when Sark pulled back.  
  
  
Sark smiled. "Don;'t worry."  
  
  
"Please;," Sydney insisted, "just; look out for him."  
  
  
Sark nodded. "I; will, Sydney. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to understand what he means to you." Sydney cracked up, remembering the conversation they had had on their date, and Sark grinned at her as he planted another kiss on her lips. "I;'ll see you in a few days."  
  
  
"See; you," Sydney said, before stealing one last kiss.  
  
  
Sark started trudging along in the sand as he made his way to his car. Sydney followed suit soon after, picking up her coat from the ground and shaking off the grains of sand that had gathered on it, then putting it around her shoulders as she walked to her car.  
  
  
  
  
A short time later, Sydney was parking her car and making the trip up to her father's apartment. A quick glance at her watch and she saw that it was half past nine. She fished around in her coat pocket for the key her father had given her and unlocked the door. She pushed it open and stepped in quietly, unsure of whether or not her father would be asleep at this hour.  
  
  
She closed the door behind her, shedding her coat after slipping the house key back into one of the coat's pockets and discarding it on a hook by the door. She absently slid her hands into the front pockets of her jeans and looked around the semi-dark apartment. She was grateful for the lack of light as she was more than certain that the tell-tale glow one took on after being made love to was clearly evident in her eyes and on her skin.  
  
  
She looked around the dark living room, then moved on to the kitchen where there was a small oven light on as her father stood over the stove cooking something.  
  
  
"You;'re back," Jack stated simply, his back turned towards Sydney.  
  
  
"Yeah;," Sydney mumbled. She took her hands out of her pockets and crossed her arms over her chest. "What; are you making?"  
  
  
"Eggs.;"  
  
  
"Oh.;" Sydney reached over to one of the chairs and gripped it, suddenly feeling her equilibrium go a bit off kilter. She pulled the chair out and sat down in it, fearing that if she simply said 'good night' to her father and went to her room that he would discover where she had been and what she had been doing—pun intended.  
  
  
"Are; you hungry?" Jack asked, turning towards Sydney with a small plate of scrambled eggs. Sydney shook her head and Jack shrugged, grabbing a fork from a drawer and bringing his plate to the table. He set both items down, then went to the refrigerator to pour himself a glass of milk.  
  
  
"You; drink a lot of milk," Sydney offered, making an attempt at casual conversation.  
  
  
"Indeed; I do," Jack responded flatly, putting the milk jug back into the refrigerator and walking back to the table, his glass of milk in tow. He sat down and began to eat and Sydney felt an involuntary shudder slice through her body. "Where; did you go?" Jack asked, catching Sydney's gaze as he swallowed a bite of egg.  
  
  
"Nowhere;," Sydney said, much too fast, fixing a false smile on her face, then averting her gaze. She suddenly flirted with the idea of just telling her father that she and Sark were an item. She knew it was none of his business, but lying to him and being afraid of him finding out made her feel like a teenager who had been caught with her boyfriend.  
  
  
"'Nowhere'?" Jack questioned.  
  
  
Sydney tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear. "Actually;, I uh—I went to the beach and just sat for a while."  
  
  
"Hm.;"  
  
  
Sydney seriously considered asking her father the meaning behind his 'hm' but decided against it and instead stood and announced that she was going to bed. Jack simply nodded as he took another bite of his dinner and Sydney walked to her room. She undressed quickly, then pulled her suitcase up and lay it on the bed as she searched for a pair of pajamas.  
  
  
She had barely opened the zipper when a familiar beeping sound came from the outer pocket of the suitcase. Sydney's heart stopped for a moment, then she reached for something to write with as she began to memorize the message being emitted. She closed the flap of the suitcase and opened the small pocket in front where the box with her mother's earrings lay.  
  
  
**A/N:** g Hee;) See ya next chapter;) As always, thanks for the reviews, and major hugs to **Linz** and **AnnaSun**.


	22. Verity

**Twenty-Two  
  
Verity  
  
  
  
**

The paper Sydney had written the message on fluttered in her trembling hands. She read the message at least twelve times before setting it down on the bed and getting dressed again. She set her suitcase down on the floor and waited until she heard her father's footsteps go past so she could leave without appearing suspicious.  
  
  
Telling her father that her mother had sent her a message requesting to meet with her was out of the question. She sat on the bed and drew her legs under her, vaguely aware that she was shaking and that gooseflesh had broken out everywhere on her body.  
  
  
She waited silently, trying not to seem eager about meeting her mother. Part of her was interested in what her mother had to say and part of her was afraid of even going. But nonetheless, Sydney's curiosity overrode her trepidation and she found herself wanting her father to hurry with whatever he was doing (still eating, most likely) so she could leave.  
  
  
After what seemed like an eternity, Sydney heard footsteps padding down the hall. She stood up from the bed, and slid the paper into the back pocket of her jeans. She went to the door and opened it slowly. She peered out into the hall to see if her father was waiting there because he had been expecting her to leave again.  
  
  
Her heart hammered in her chest as she closed the door behind her and walked slowly and quietly to the door where her coat was hanging. Casting a worried glance over her shoulder, Sydney opened the front door and slipped out, her coat on her arm. She closed the door and locked the deadbolt from the outside, then swiftly made her way to her car.  
  
  
  
  
As she drove, Sydney felt a strong jolt in her stomach that wasn't caused by pressure being put on her scar. She recognized the jolt as compunction. She was feeling guilty for leaving unnoticed and not telling her father where she was going.  
  
  
She wondered if she would have felt any different if she had been at her own apartment.  
  
  
  
  
She found a place to park adjacent from the pier where her mother wanted her to go. She got out of her car, closing the door softly and drawing her coat close about her. She crossed her arms over her chest as she walked to the pier. She didn't see her mother there yet and realized she wasn't surprised that she had arrived first.  
  
  
With shaky hands, Sydney supported herself on the railing. She looked out over the midnight blue water where a stream of yellow-white from the moonlight danced across the surface. She gripped the rail tighter and leaned forward to peer down at the almost black water directly beneath the pier.  
  
  
She looked out at the streak of moonlight again, feeling an odd comfort at the sight of it. She thought of previous ironies relating to a small strip of light in an otherwise dark atmosphere and suddenly she knew why the moonlight comforted her. She sighed and was about to wonder why her mother hadn't arrived yet when Irina materialized beside her.  
  
  
Sydney glanced at her mother out of the corner of her eye, and for the first time, she realized the height difference between them. Standing at five-foot-nine, Sydney was not short by any means, but her mother was at least a good two inches taller and Sydney felt small by comparison.  
  
  
She decided she would have to lay off the irony for a while.  
  
  
"It;'s beautiful, isn't it?" Irina said, a small smile turning up the corners of her mouth as she stared out at the ocean.  
  
  
Sydney swallowed hard and forced herself to speak, praying that her voice wouldn't fail her. "What; is?"  
  
  
"The; moonlight," Irina said calmly. "Everything; save for the bit of light glancing over the water is dark."  
  
  
Sydney shivered. _Why do we have to think alike?_ "Yes;," she agreed, nodding, "it;'s nice." Sydney didn't have to look over at her mother to know that she was smiling that enigmatic smile that Sydney could never quite decrypt.  
  
  
Mother and daughter lapsed into something of a companionable silence and Sydney felt a shred more comfortable than she had when she had first walked up to the pier.  
  
  
"Why; did you want to see me?" Sydney asked, surprised at how nonchalant and carefree her voice sounded. Deep down, she knew she shouldn't be surprised. Her mother was incredibly disarming (in more ways than one) and, except for her father, she probably knew that better than anyone.  
  
  
"I; think it's time you learned the truth about what happened to you," Irina said, turning to face Sydney and seeing her eyes go wide with shock.  
  
  
"You; know what happened to me?" Sydney questioned, her tone laden with a mixture of shock and fury.  
  
  
Irina simply nodded and turned back to look out at the water again. Sydney felt her lower lip trembling and all she could do was stare at her mother and hope she took the initiative to begin her explanation because Sydney wasn't certain that she could work up the strength to ask her.  
  
  
"Sloane; captured you," Irina stated simply, and Sydney knew that this was only the beginning to a long story. She elected to keep her mouth shut and let her mother explain. There was no way she could jump in every time she had a question. She would simply have to wait until her mother finished to begin her interrogation—starting with how the hell her mother knew any of what had happened to her. "After; you killed your friend's double, Sloane came to your apartment and took you to a small warehouse that was hidden away in Nevada. He needed a quiet place where he couldn't be disturbed. He did a number of things to you," Irina said softly, a note of sadness in her voice.  
  
  
"Why; am I not surprised," Sydney wondered aloud. She sighed and briefly reprimanded herself for not complying with her own terms of not speaking until the end of her mother's story.  
  
  
Irina continued, "He; used _Il Dire_ on you—'The Telling.' He wanted to see if it would work." Irina looked over at Sydney and saw that in the low light, her daughter's eyes were clouded with anger. She considered doing something to comfort her—squeezing her shoulder, grasping her hand. She wasn't sure how her daughter would react, but she reached a hand up and gently tucked a few strands of Sydney's hair behind her ear. She was relieved when Sydney closed her eyes for a moment and sighed softly. She didn't want to reveal the rest of the story to Sydney because she knew how much it would hurt her.  
  
  
But she had to.  
  
  
There were pressing issues that Sydney needed to deal with and that needed to be dealt with before time ran out. Irina spoke quietly. "I; honestly cannot say that I know how the machine works or exactly what it does, but I do know a bit of what it accomplishes."  
  
  
"Which; is what?" Sydney asked, looking over at her mother and locking her gaze onto hers.  
  
  
"It; experiments with time travel. But, it doesn't work in the traditional time travel fashion. It doesn't send someone forward or backwards into a time in the time-space continuum where only the person who is hooked up to it is the only person who experiences the time change and everyone on the outside stays in the regular world. It actually molds time around it to fit the requirements put forth by the person operating the machine. The only way it works like the sort of sci-fi time machines you may be familiar with from books or movies is when the process is reversed. It will still mold time around the requirements, but it is something of a dream world that you can escape from to go back to where you were after accomplishing whatever needs to be accomplished," Irina explained.  
  
  
Sydney raised an eyebrow. "Well;, pardon me for being a bit slow on the uptake, but—what?! I have no *clue* what the hell you just said."  
  
  
In spite of herself, Irina smiled. "You; really don't need to, as I'll be helping you every step of the way."  
  
  
"'Every step of the way' for what?" Sydney demanded. "What; are you talking about?"  
  
  
"There; are things you need to do before this can all be over. 'This' being Sloane and everything preventing you from leading the normal life you have always dreamed of," Irina told her.  
  
  
"What; do I have to do?"  
  
  
"You; need to get access to The Telling and pull Sloane away from it long enough so that you can go back to the night he kidnapped you so you can prevent what he ended up doing to you. The Telling works by using external circumstances to predict the kind of situations that will develop after time is fast-forwarded. In your case—"  
  
  
"Wait;," Sydney said, cutting her mother off. "Let; me see if I understand this. Now, you're saying that part of it depends on external conditions. So, that means that things can be prevented if part of what we do out of our own free will causes whatever The Telling would predict to be thrown off the mark."  
  
  
Irina nodded and a smile stole over her features. "You;'re almost there."  
  
  
Sydney nodded as well and continued, "Okay;, let's find an example." She paused a moment, then said, "Vaughn;'s marriage." She ignored the almost shocked look that passed over her mother's face. "Now;, Sloane captured me because Vaughn obviously came to my apartment too late. I was already gone. That could also tie into this" she mused, and her mother nodded. "So;, Sloane used The Telling on me and based on what had happened before and after he came to retrieve me, The Telling predicted that—based on those things—after two years, Vaughn would be married."  
  
  
"Yes.;"  
  
  
Sydney sighed and shook her head. "I; don't even know if I understand what I'm saying."  
  
  
"It;'s fine, Sydney. Like I said, you don't need to because I'll be helping you."  
  
  
"But; what do we have to do?"  
  
  
"First;, like I said, you need to get Sloane away from the machine so you can use it. You will set it back to the exact amount of time that has passed, which was one year, eleven months, and twenty-five days."  
  
  
Sydney stopped her mother's instructions as she said, "Why; so specific?"  
  
  
"You; need to be where you were after the fight. But, you need to either be alert or hope that Vaughn comes to pick you up before Sloane gets there," Irina explained.  
  
  
"But; how will I do that? It's based on free will, but how can I prevent myself from fainting from exhaustion after the fight?" Sydney asked.  
  
  
Irina shrugged. "That; part is up to you."  
  
  
"Great;," Sydney started, "so; the same thing might happen all over again."  
  
  
"It; won't," Irina insisted. "In; any case, you, myself, and a third person will be the only ones who know that things have been reversed. We will know what we know now and we will know that we used The Telling to go back and change the order of events. But, everyone else will believe that nothing has happened. The people who you see when you go back will act how they normally would. They won't know that The Telling was used to go back. They will think that the two years never passed."  
  
  
"I; don't understand."  
  
  
"We;'re mentioned in Rambaldi's writings as the only people who will be aware of what happens if The Telling is used to go back," Irina said.  
  
  
"Why;? Why us? Why will we know and not anyone else?"  
  
  
"Like; I said, Sydney, when The Telling goes forward, time molds around the settings that the operator puts in. When it goes back, it is like a time machine used in sci-fi flicks. Except in our case, it is only those Rambaldi mentioned in his writings, rather than those who are specifically sent back."  
  
  
"This; is crazy," Sydney said with a wry laugh. "How; the hell do you know all of this anyway? And how did you know that Sloane used The Telling on me? And how do you know what we're supposed to go back and fix? I mean, if he just used the machine on me to send us forward in time, why does it matter? Why do we have to go back and change it?"  
  
  
"I;'m sure you're wondering what was implanted in your body," Irina said calmly, looking over at Sydney whose eyes were wide again.  
  
  
"How; do you know about that?" Sydney asked, her voice shaky.  
  
  
The trademark enigmatic smile spread over Irina's features. "Truth; takes time." With that, she turned around and started to walk away from the pier. She stopped, knowing that Sydney was staring at her with her eyes bugged out of her head and her mouth agape. "One; last thing, before I contact you again with more details."  
  
  
"Yes;?" Sydney asked, still reeling from the three words her mother had spoken that were the exact same as the encoded message she had received from when her mother contacted her through the earrings a couple of years before.  
  
  
"You; need to be a part of that mission tomorrow."  
  
  
Sydney started to ask how she was supposed to manage that, but decided against it, knowing that her mother would tell her something cryptic that would only make her more confused. So she watched her mother walk away, then turned on her heel to walk back towards her car, thinking all the while what kind of scheme she could cook up that would allow her to go on the mission.  
  
  
**A/N:** Don't worry about being confused because I am, too. Er..heh;x It's okay, though, I basically have a handle on what I'm trying to do. Sort of. Well, anyways, stick with me, and this should all work out. Sorry about not revealing the object yet, it just wasn't the time;) *hugs all my lovely reviewers* I love you guys;) Oh, go back and read the part in chapter 21 about Syd being concerned about Will being a field agent. I reposted the chapter after changing something in that conversation because it hit me like a brick this morning when I was rereading it. Anyways, go check it out;)


	23. Clandestine

**Twenty-Three  
  
Clandestine  
  
  
  
**

Sydney reached her car and slumped against the driver's side door, her head spinning. She tried to process everything her mother had told her.  
  
  
_"I; honestly cannot say that I know how the machine works or exactly what it does, but I do know a bit of what it accomplishes. It experiments with time travel. It actually molds time around it to fit the requirements put forth by the person operating the machine. The only way it works like the sort of sci-fi time machines you may be familiar with from books or movies is when the process is reversed. There are things you need to do before this can all be over. The Telling works by using external circumstances to predict the kind of situations that will develop after time is fast-forwarded. one year, eleven months, and twenty-five days. you, myself, and a third person will be the only ones who know that things have been reversed. We're mentioned in Rambaldi's writings as the only people who will be aware of what happens if The Telling is used to go back."  
  
  
_Sydney breathed deeply, startled to find that she was completely breathless. She barely understood any of what her mother told her about The Telling, and when Irina had mentioned the object implanted in Sydney as well as leaving on a cryptic note, Sydney was more confused than ever.  
  
  
She tried to understand how The Telling worked, but it was difficult and complicated. What she could deduce though, was that when someone used the machine on someone else, time must fly for them and be normal for everyone else. If she was transported two years into the future and didn't remember those two years but everyone else around her did, that was the only explanation.  
  
  
She put a hand to her forehead and sighed. She still couldn't understand how her mother could know everything she did—especially the mission! How did her mother know about the mission? Was she being fed information through someone on the inside?  
  
  
_Sark,_ Sydney thought automatically, and felt her throat clog around automatic sobs of betrayal. Had she been right all along? Did Sark have an agenda that involved him seducing her to make her trust him?  
  
  
Sydney took another deep breath, finding herself ashamed for letting herself be vulnerable around Sark and giving herself so completely to him. She realized that she had never let herself be fully open to anyone she had been with before Sark. Not Noah, not Danny, and certainly not Vaughn, which actually caused Sydney to giggle. Given everything she had been through with Vaughn, allowing herself to be emotionally vulnerable around him because of everything they had been through together, she never allowed herself to be that vulnerable physically.  
  
  
She never let herself go, never let her passion guide her. She was always guarded. She never let Vaughn get that close to her and never let herself get that close to him. But with Sark, it had been different. Sydney figured that it was because of their horrific past and the fact that her losing two years and his being employed by the CIA gave them the chance to get to know one another for who they really were—to start over from scratch. Sydney didn't have to pretend with him and she didn't have to worry because she knew that Sark was being as open as she was.  
  
  
It wasn't Sark who was feeding Irina information, Sydney decided, but she still had no idea who was. She looked down at her feet for a moment, then turned around and began to unlock her car door when she noticed something tucked into the windshield wiper blades.  
  
  
Sydney knew what it was before she picked it up, and once she had read it and confirmed her suspicions, she glanced at her watch, then went to find the nearest pay phone.  
  
  
Luckily, there was one near the pier. Sydney looked at the number and started to pick up the receiver when she realized that she had no change. She looked around, hoping someone who had been walking had juggled some coins out of his or her pocket. After a few minutes of searching, Sydney remembered that she had always kept some change in one of the cupholders of her car. She had no clue if anyone had messed with her car since she had been gone, but she prayed that no one had.  
  
  
She jogged back over to her car and pulled open the driver's side door. She leaned forward, one hand on the seat, as she reached her other hand up to flip on the other lights besides the one that was switched on when the door was opened.  
  
  
"Aha;," she murmured triumphantly, her fingers brushing a couple of quarters. She picked them up, nearly slammed the door shut, then ran back over to the pay phone. She looked at the paper again as she picked up the receiver and deposited her change. She dialed the number quickly, then waited for an answer.  
  
  
After a moment, Irina's voice traveled through the line and into Sydney's ear. "Yes;?"  
  
  
"Pier;," Sydney said simply, "now.;" She hung up, not giving her mother a chance to argue. She was going to be in control now. She needed to glean all the information she could before she even tried to do what her mother had practically ordered her to do.  
  
  
Sydney looked at her watch as she walked back over to the pier. She cursed when she found that it was after eleven, then cursed again when she realized that she should have asked Sark what time his flight was. Sydney still had to decide whether or not she was going to listen to her mother and go on the mission, and if she was, she needed to find a way to be forceful enough with Kendall so she could even go.  
  
  
She clenched her teeth. Kendall needed to apologize profusely for how he had treated her earlier.  
  
  
Sydney made her way back to the pier, gripping the rail with her hands. She thought about what she had said to Sark on their date.  
  
  
_"I; can't have any relationship without the whole world knowing about it."  
  
_  
She sighed heavily. The statement not only applied to admitting in front of sixty-three people during her debrief that she had fucked Vaughn, but it also applied to Kendall reminding her in front of several agents as well as her father of the fact that footage of her and Vaughn had been found. She could hardly believe that Kendall was bringing it up again, especially when neither he nor the other agents had any right to know about it.  
  
  
She thought about what she had with Sark. No one knew. It was exhilarating. She had a relationship that the CIA didn't know about. She finally had a shred of normalcy in her life and she couldn't believe how incredibly good it made her feel.  
  
  
She closed her eyes, warmth spreading over her as she recalled Sark's body on hers, their skin melding together, their passion voiced loud and clear or muffled with a deep kiss. She rubbed her arms with her hands, contentment flooding through her. She couldn't remember ever being so happy in her entire life and while it was obviously thrilling, it was also a bit scary. It had taken everything that had happened during her entire life and especially the part of her life when she had become a spy, to let her find true happiness.  
  
  
She shuddered a bit, then tried to focus on the fact that her mother should be arriving again soon and she needed to formulate the questions that were making her head pound with each passing minute.  
  
  
A few minutes passed before Irina joined Sydney once again. "You; rang?" Irina quipped, and Sydney bristled.  
  
  
"You; have a *hell* of a lot to explain to me," Sydney said coldly, "starting; with how you know *any* of what you know about The Telling and about the mission tomorrow."  
  
  
"Sydney;, I told you—"  
  
  
"'Truth takes time,'" Sydney mocked, "I; know. But that's bullshit and you know it." She turned to face her mother and muttered, "Someone; in the CIA has been feeding you information and I want to know who it is."  
  
  
Irina stared at her daughter for a moment, then looked out over the water. She sighed. "Things; will make a great deal more sense after the mission tomorrow."  
  
  
"Look;, you need to stop being so damn vague or else I won't even go on this stupid mission!"  
  
  
Irina looked back at Sydney, her eyes flashing. Sydney was startled by the intensity in her mother's gaze. "You; *have* to go!"  
  
  
"Why;? Why do I have to? What will be gained from my going on this mission?" Sydney demanded.  
  
  
Irina's tone was desperate. "Sydney;, I told you I can't explain everything right now. If I did, either you wouldn't believe me, or you would be so scared or shocked that you would never speak to me again. I can't let you do that, Sydney. The mission is entirely too important for you to—"  
  
  
"Wait; a minute. What exactly is happening on the mission? Sark told me that they were just going to try and capture Sloane, but—" Sydney stopped herself, cursing inwardly for being so candid, and her mother looked over at her, a look of surprise on her face.  
  
  
"Sark; told you about the mission? Not someone else?" Irina questioned.  
  
  
Sydney swallowed hard and looked away. She needed to think of a good excuse for why she would be conversing with Sark and why Sark would tell her about the mission without revealing that she was dating him. "I-I; went to pick up the money that the CIA had withdrawn from the accounts of mine that they closed, and Sark pulled me aside to ask if I was going on the mission." She looked down at her feet, wondering if her mother would recognize that she had lied.  
  
  
"Sydney;," Irina said softly, and Sydney knew she had been caught by the disappointed undertone her mother's voice carried.  
  
  
"What;?" Sydney asked, gathering up her courage and looking over at her mother.  
  
  
Irina smiled a bit, enigmatic as always. "This; might make things easier."  
  
  
"What; will? What do you mean 'make things easier'? What are you talking about?" The flood of questions left Sydney's mouth in a hurry and Sydney cursed inwardly, realizing that the control over the conversation had switched sides. "I; don't understand why you can't just tell me how you know what you know."  
  
  
"I; realize I'm frustrating you," Irina said slowly, sighing heavily when Sydney rolled her eyes as if to say, "No; shit." Irina continued, "I; can't tell you much more until after the mission."  
  
  
"Mom;," Sydney began, surprised at herself, "you; need to at least tell me what is going to happen on the mission. I was told that there was a chance to apprehend Sloane, but it seems like there's a much bigger story here that I am not getting."  
  
  
"There; is," Irina confessed. "The; mission is not just about trying to capture Sloane. The location has a missing page from the Rambaldi manuscript."  
  
  
Sydney raised her eyebrows. "What; do you mean a missing page?"  
  
  
"It;'s the last page of the manuscript. It starts completely new and doesn't continue from what is on the page before it, so it was believed that there were no more pages."  
  
  
"What;'s on it?" Sydney asked tentatively, afraid to find out.  
  
  
Irina bit her lip and Sydney swallowed. "It; relates to The Telling."  
  
  
"But; what's on it, though?" Sydney pressed.  
  
  
"Just; get the page, Sydney," Irina commanded. "Get; the page *yourself*—don't let anyone else see it. Then bring it back here and I will explain it to you."  
  
  
"Whoa;, whoa, wait a minute. I have to give it to the CIA. If I don't deliver it to them, they're going to blame me for screwing up the mission!" Sydney yelled.  
  
  
"No;, they won't," Irina said in a calm voice that unnerved Sydney. "They; don't know for certain if the page exists. They'll believe that they walked into a trap, that their intel was faulty."  
  
  
"Where; did they get the intel to begin with?"  
  
  
"An; anonymous source."  
  
  
Sydney frowned. "And; how did *you* get it?"  
  
  
Irina turned towards Sydney and gave her an almost pleading look. "I;'ll explain everything, Sydney, I promise. But not until you bring back the page."  
  
  
"So; I get back from a two-year absence and I'm supposed to somehow convince Kendall to let me go on this mission, and then betray the CIA?" Sydney scoffed. "Well;, this is just lovely."  
  
  
"It; will be over soon if you do what I tell you, Sydney."  
  
  
"Fine.; But I find out that you're screwing me over and betraying me—again—I swear to you, I will not give you the opportunity to do it a third time," Sydney said pointedly, glaring at her mother to emphasize her point, then turning to look at the water. She drummed her fingertips on the railing for a minute, then declared, "If; I'm going to convince Kendall, I better get moving."  
  
  
"I;'ll see you soon, Sydney," Irina said softly.  
  
  
"Yeah;," Sydney said with a sigh, then stalked off down the pier. Her mother's voice stopped her.  
  
  
"Sydney;?"  
  
  
"What;?" Sydney asked, her back turned.  
  
  
There was a pause before Irina spoke. "I; love you."  
  
  
Sydney swallowed the lump rising in her throat and starting walking again, ignoring the single tear that escaped her eye and fell onto her cheek.  
  
  
**A/N:** Is anyone wanting to slap Irina right now for being so damn cryptic?;x Anyways, the mission is coming in the next chapter. There should also be at least some Sarkney cuddling. I don't dare indulge my smut urges when Vaughn and Will are going to be with the two of them on the plane, heh. Unless, of course, I went nuts and had V and W join in ;x Nah, I'll save it for another fic;) *another hug for my awesome reviewers*


	24. Games

**A/N:** Okay, now think. Why would I put a note at the top of a chapter unless I was warning you about something? Muahahax**  
**

  
  
Twenty-Four  
  
Games  
  
  
  


Sydney climbed into her car, more than aware that her attire probably wouldn't bowl Kendall over when she went to speak with him. She decided to test her luck and go back to her father's apartment to find something more suitable. She needed to pick up her suitcase anyway—just in case the flight was in the middle of the night.  
  
  
She drove rather quickly to her father's apartment and snuck inside quietly, looking around every corner to see if her father had awakened and discovered that she wasn't there and had decided to wait up for her. She went to her room and hauled her suitcase up on the bed, looking for something more suitable than what she was already wearing. She decided on a short black skirt and a white button-down blouse.  
  
  
Before she started getting dressed, she decided that if the flight *was* in the middle of the night, perhaps she and Sark would have some alone time provided neither Will nor Vaughn were around to interfere. With that in mind, she chose a lacy bra and decided against wearing panties, a devilish grin crossing her lips as she zipped up her skirt in the back and smoothed it in front. She adjusted the collar on her blouse and opened the first two buttons.  
  
  
She looked for the pair of heels that she had thrown into her suitcase and slipped them on, then zipped up her suitcase and carried it out of the room. She left a note for her father on the kitchen table, then left the apartment and went to her car.  
  
  
  
  
She arrived at the CIA shortly thereafter and got out of her car, leaving the suitcase in the backseat. She decided she would come back for it later. She walked into the rotunda, seeing a few people around, but not very many. She caught Sark's eye as he was looking over some last-minute mission specs and grinned at him. Sark reluctantly returned the smile, obviously knowing full well why Sydney had shown up.  
  
  
Sydney rounded a corner and spotted Kendall in a conference room going over something with Vaughn and Will. All three men looked up at her, momentarily startled, then Kendall dismissed Vaughn and Will. Sydney crossed her arms over her chest as she walked into the room, her heels clicking on the floor, the sound seeming to become louder each time she took a step.  
  
  
Finally, she found a chair that she liked and sat down in it, crossing her legs and trying to forget the fact that she wasn't wearing any underwear. Kendall eyed Sydney for a moment before letting out an exasperated sigh and sitting at a chair across from her.  
  
  
"I; can only guess why you're here at this hour," Kendall said, leaning forward and resting his forearms on the table. Sydney did the same.  
  
  
"There; are two ways we can do this, Mr. Kendall—the easy way or the hard way." Sydney sat back in her chair, pleased when Kendall sighed again. "If; you don't want to cause a ruckus, you can simply agree to let me go on this mission. However, if you're in the mood to argue, you can rattle off whatever reasons you have for not wanting me to go. Either way, I'm not leaving this facility unless it is on an airplane."  
  
  
Kendall lifted his hands up to hide the smile on his lips. He had always admired Sydney's stubborn streak and he figured it was partly because he saw the same trait mirrored in himself. He knew that Sydney wasn't the type of person to take "no;" for an answer when she felt strongly about something for which she was fighting. He lowered his hands so Sydney could see his smile. He shrugged and stood up.  
  
  
"You; can go." Sydney raised an eyebrow and Kendall offered a smirk. "What;'s the problem, Agent Bristow? Were you expecting a full-fledged argument?"  
  
  
Sydney stood up and absently straightened her skirt then discretely wiped a thin sheen of sweat off her forehead. "No;, not at all," she replied. "I; just wasn't expecting you to give up so easily after how you treated me earlier."  
  
  
"People; change," Kendall said simply.  
  
  
"Do; they," Sydney said, crossing her arms over her chest.  
  
  
Kendall nodded and slid a folder across the table towards Sydney. "I; suggest you go pack and then read that on the plane. You leave in an hour." Kendall smiled again when Sydney pursed her lips, then simply left the room, leaving her to scowl after him.  
  
  
  
  
Sydney sat in a plush seat on the plane next to Sark as they discussed the mission. Will and Vaughn had decided to get some shut-eye and were sprawled across two couches in the cabin. Sydney sat in a seat near the window and Sark took the aisle seat. Luckily, Vaughn hadn't asked any questions about why Sydney was going over the mission with Sark of all people when she could be discussing the mission with him or Will.  
  
  
Sydney glanced over to her right to see Vaughn sprawled across the couch there, then briefly stood up and looked over the seats in front of her to see Will curled up and sound asleep on another couch. A grin spread across her face and she made one last check to see that both Will and Vaughn were asleep before turning Sark's head towards her and brushing her lips over his. When she pulled back, she put her finger to his lips to prevent his protest, then pressed her lips to his again, gently slipping her tongue into his mouth and making it duel with his tongue.  
  
  
Biting her lip coyly when she pulled back, she grasped Sark's hand and slipped it under her skirt. He looked up at her with a raised eyebrow and she raised an eyebrow right back at him. Slowly, Sark let his fingers travel up Sydney's right thigh, then slip between her legs. He could barely suppress the gasp of surprise that came from realizing that Sydney wasn't wearing any panties. Sydney grinned wickedly at him and pressed against his hand.  
  
  
Sark bit his lip and looked around for a place more private. He leaned close to Sydney and whispered, "We; could try the bathroom." He gestured with his thumb to Vaughn and Will. "I; think those two will be out for a while."  
  
  
Sydney licked lips suddenly gone dry. She had figured a bit of teasing would be all that was in order. She hadn't planned on taking Sark in the plane. "Do; you want to risk it?"  
  
  
Sark grinned at her, then leaned close again, nibbling on her earlobe. "Will; already knows about us, so I would think he could care less. Do you think it'll be a big deal if Vaughn finds out?" He pulled back to look into her eyes.  
  
  
Sydney looked down at her lap where Sark's hand was still under her skirt. She flinched when Sark's talented index finger jolted her whole body into consciousness when he found the source of her sensitivity. She fought the urge to smack Sark when a smug smirk spread over his features, then said, "I; just feel guilty, that's all."  
  
  
Sark lifted her chin up so she would look at him. "'Guilty'? What do you mean?"  
  
  
"I; mean blatantly exposing our relationship, especially when Vaughn and I have a bit of history together," Sydney said, looking down again.  
  
  
Sark caught her lips with his own and slipped his hand out from under Sydney's skirt. He stood up and offered Sydney his other hand. "Come; on."  
  
  
Sydney looked up at him for a moment and decided she didn't have anything to lose. Besides, the adrenaline rush she was getting from wondering whether or not they would get caught was spreading quickly throughout her body.  
  
  
So she grasped Sark's hand, and he silently led her to the bathroom in the very back of the plane. Once inside, Sark shut the door and pressed Sydney up against it, wasting no time, as his hands roamed her body and she moaned into his mouth. Sydney unbuttoned Sark's shirt and ran her hands over his warm chest, gently tweaking his nipples as Sark worked to unbutton her blouse.  
  
  
Sydney moaned when Sark worked a breast free of its confinement in her bra and took the stiff peak of a nipple into his mouth. Sydney reached down to unzip Sark's slacks and push them and his boxers off his hips. Sark lifted Sydney up, her back against the door, and slid her skirt up her thighs as he gripped her hips and pushed into her.  
  
  
"God;," Sydney moaned, shutting her eyes as she arched into Sark, twisting her fingers around the tendrils of hair at the back of his neck.  
  
  
Sark did his best to keep the back of Sydney's head from slamming against the wood each time his thrusts drove her farther into the door. Sark's body started to shudder and he slipped a hand between them, thumbing Sydney into ecstasy with him. Sydney's body quaked around him and he silenced the cry that he knew would leave her lips by slamming his mouth against hers in a bruising kiss.  
  
  
Sydney's eyes met Sark's, hers a bright post-coital amber and his a bright sapphire. She used a finger to trace the line of Sark's cheekbone and the curve of his lips then kissed him gently. Their lips still touching, Sark carefully lowered Sydney to the floor, grasping her shoulders when she stumbled. They looked at each other for a moment, goofy grins spreading over their features.  
  
  
They dressed quickly, Sydney adjusting her bra and skirt, then buttoning up her blouse as Sark fastened his pants and buttoned up his shirt. When they were both decent, Sydney slid her hands up Sark's chest and let her fingers play with the collar of his shirt as she leaned his head down towards hers and their lips met in a tender kiss.  
  
  
When they pulled apart, Sydney bit her lip shyly and looked into Sark's eyes. "Do; you think it's possible to be in love with someone after only going out for a couple of days?"  
  
  
Sark looked far into Sydney's eyes and pushed a few strands of hair behind her ear. "I; don't know."  
  
  
Sydney nodded slowly and looked down just as Sark pulled her against him, planting soft kisses in her hair and on her forehead. She sighed softly. "It;'s been a really long time since I last told someone I loved him," she whispered.  
  
  
Sark's breath was hot against Sydney's ear. "I;'m not sure if I've ever said it to anyone before."  
  
  
Sydney grasped a portion of Sark's shirt between her fingertips and burrowed closer to him. She felt a dull ache in her chest and she wondered if she really did love Sark already. If she did, she found she was afraid to admit it to him just yet. She sighed into Sark's neck as his chin found a resting place on the top of her head.  
  
  
"We; need to get back," she whispered.  
  
  
"Mhm;," Sark murmured, tracing circles on Sydney's back.  
  
  
Sydney pulled away and slid a hand behind Sark's head to lower his lips to hers. She opened the door after grasping Sark's hand and led him back to their seats. She was relieved to find that Will and Vaughn were both still asleep and smiled to herself at how silly yet adorable they looked as they slept with their limbs splayed about on the cushions.  
  
  
She held Sark's hand as they sat down and leaned her head on his shoulder. She wasn't going to pretend anymore.  
  
  
  
  
They landed a few hours later in Dublin, Ireland, not far from an old rustic mansion. According to their intel, Sloane had moved The Telling to the location and somewhere near an old shed close to the mansion, the missing Rambaldi page was residing. Their intel also indicated that Sloane would be in the mansion for a short while, but most likely not for long. He would have to keep moving to stay away from the clutches of the CIA.  
  
  
A part of that comforted Sydney. They would bring him down eventually. He couldn't run forever.  
  
  
Once the plane had ground to a halt, Vaughn passed out the gear they would be needing—fatigues, bullet-proof vests, assault rifles, and comm links. Everyone retreated to a corner of the plane to change, then returned to the main cabin so they could discuss tasks.  
  
  
Vaughn was leading the mission and Sydney found herself surprised that Vaughn wasn't afraid to bark out orders to all of them. She figured he would go the polite route and ask what each of them would prefer to do.  
  
  
She admired him.  
  
  
"Okay;, Sy—Agent Bristow—" he corrected himself, but it didn't matter because Sydney didn't seem to care, "you;'ll be looking for the Rambaldi page. I know you probably feel like you're up to taking out Sloane, but I don't want to take a chance."  
  
  
"It;'s fine, Vaughn."  
  
  
Vaughn nodded, then said to Will and Sark, "You; two will be with me. We'll split up and each of us will take a floor. I'll take the third. Sark, you can take the second, and Will, you can take the first. If you see Sloane, do not hesitate to fire." He glanced at Sydney. "If; or when you find the page, since we don't know if it is actually in existence, just get back to the plane."  
  
  
Sydney's brow knitted in confusion. "Why; can't I help after I find the page?"  
  
  
Vaughn pinched the bridge of his nose with his left hand and Sydney was grateful that he was wearing gloves, thus preventing the ache that would have settled into her stomach if she saw the ring again. "I; don't want the page to be lost or damaged."  
  
  
"That;'s bullshit, Vaughn, and you know it. If and when I find the page, I'm coming into the mansion to help you guys out."  
  
  
Vaughn sighed and shook his head. "Sydney;, I really don't think that's a good idea."  
  
  
Sydney narrowed her eyes at Vaughn and her voice was dangerously low as she spoke. "Vaughn;, you might be in charge of this op, but you are not in charge of me. I'm coming in to help whether you like it or not."  
  
  
Vaughn was about to launch another protest when both Sark and Will stopped him. A moment passed between the three men. It was obvious that they all wanted to protect Sydney, but if the argument continued, it would only spoil their concentration and simply make things worse. It was a losing battle anyway—they just had to accept it.  
  
  
Vaughn finally nodded and the four left the plane.  
  
  
  
  
Sydney headed for the shed while Vaughn, Will, and Sark headed for the mansion. She cased the shed and the surrounding area, trying to see if any of Sloane's flunkies were traipsing about. She found none and charged into the shed with her rifle, her finger steady near the trigger. She was able to avoid gunfire here as well, and she looked around the shed to see if the page was either in plain sight or locked up somewhere. She looked down at the floorboards and saw that one of them had a hole just large enough for someone's finger to fit through. She knelt down and pulled off the glove she was wearing and curled her index finger into the hole and pulled upwards.  
  
  
The board came up after about a minute of Sydney's frustrated curses and she tossed it aside. She saw that underneath the floorboard was tightly packed dirt and Sydney wondered if Sloane had even gotten the chance to dig out the page—or if he had hid it here on purpose. She looked around the shed for a shovel and finally found one leaning against a back wall. She put her foot on the side of the shovel and dug it into the ground, hardly making a dent. She let out a majorly frustrated groan after a few tries before she finally made some progress.  
  
  
"Syd;, are you all right?" Vaughn's voice floated over the comm link.  
  
  
"Yeah;," Sydney replied, grunting a bit as she loosened some more dirt. "Yeah;, I'm fine. Listen, though, I think I'm going to turn off my comm because I thought I heard something out here that didn't exactly sound like the wind. I don't want a lot of noise in case any of you guys try to talk to me." A knot formed in Sydney's stomach. She needed to turn off her comm so that Vaughn, Will, or Sark wouldn't be able to hear the rustle of paper when she found the page.  
  
  
"All; right, just be careful."  
  
  
"I; will, Vaughn." She switched off the comm and continued digging. She dragged a sleeved arm across her forehead to wipe away the sweat that had formed. She tucked her hair behind her ear, pissed that she hadn't brought something with her so she could pin it back. She finally got to the point where she could see something beneath the dirt, so she dropped to her knees, laying the shovel at her side. She took off her other glove and used her fingers to wipe away a thin coat of dirt over something rather hard that was hidden underneath.  
  
  
She knocked on it, checking to see if it was hollow and found that it was. She thought for a moment and wondered if, in fact, Sloane *had* seen the page and had managed to hide it in the shed hoping that no one would ever find it. She wrapped her fingers around the cylinder and pulled it from where it had been nestled. The metal of the cylindrical container led Sydney to believe that Sloane had used his own means for safekeeping of the page, meaning that he *had* hidden it himself.  
  
  
With trembling fingers, Sydney pulled off the top and slid her fingers inside until they brushed the rolled-up page. She pulled it out gently, then began to roll out the paper. There was a heading in Italian, _Il Dire,_ and Sydney felt her breath catch in her throat.  
  
  
Apparently her mother had been right.  
  
  
Her fingers curled around the part of the page that was still left rolled and began to slowly pull downwards, revealing more Italian that Sydney mentally translated.  
  
  
Next came the first picture. It was a drawing of herself, similar to the one on page forty-seven of the manuscript. There was a second picture, a drawing of her mother. Sydney felt herself trembling even more as she continued to roll out the page and translate the Italian text. So far, everything her mother had told her at the pier was true. When she glimpsed the third picture, Sydney dropped the page, gasping as she scooted backwards, away from it, somehow convinced that the distance she put between herself and the page would calm her down.  
  
  
Shaking, Sydney finally worked up the courage to unroll the page the rest of the way. She mentally translated the rest of the text, then focused on the third drawing. Her mother was right about there being a third person who would know if what The Telling had predicted had been reversed.  
  
  
It was Sark.  
  
  
**A/N:** g Hee. Okay, now to answer some questions and stuff.  
  
For **Linz**, Irina won't screw Syd over, I can tell you that right now. I've loved Irina from the very second she appeared in the second season premiere and especially near the end of that ep when she told Syd "truth; takes time." Ever since then, I've always believed that somehow, one way or another, she will ultimately turn out to be good. Read my other stories and you'll see;)  
  
For **miss.pebbles**, I sent an e-mail almost a week ago to FF asking them to take a look at the problem and/or fix it and they haven't gotten back with me. Heh. It's annoying as all heck because I keep thinking that somewhere a chapter is going to show up twice and screw things up. Hopefully it'll be taken care of soon.  
  
For **gin2001**, I fit in some plane sex, whee! The story you mentioned with plane sexare you referring to Evon's gorgeous 'Salvation'?;) That was soo hot. *sigh* Evon is wonderful. Go read her stuff if you haven't yet, people (yes, that is an order:P).  
  
For **AnnaSun**, **Agent13**, and everyone else who has mentioned the oval object, I'm getting to it, bear with me;) There's a mega-massive (quoting my French teacher) story behind the object and everything will become clear in the next couple of chapters;)  
  
Speaking of mega-massive storiesthere's a huge one behind the page, and something I've been pondering for a couple of months. Hmmmx  
  
*hugs everyone* I love you guys.


	25. Fear

**Twenty-Five  
  
Fear  
  
  
  
**

The sound of gunfire caused Sydney to spring into action. She turned on her comm just in time to hear Vaughn barking in her ear that they needed back-up inside the mansion. She hollered back, saying she'd be there right away. She tugged up one of her pant legs and wrapped the page around her shin. She tore a shred of material off of her other pant leg and used it to secure the page around her leg. She would simply tell the others that she had caught her pant leg on a branch or a bush.  
  
  
She scrambled to her feet, pulling the pant legs back down and praying that the page would stay in place when she had to run. She put the floorboard back in place after kicking the dirt back inside and packing it in as solid as she could.  
  
  
"SYDNEY; WE NEED YOUR HELP NOW!"  
  
  
Sydney tore the comm link out of her ear after Vaughn's voice filled her head again and she ran out of the shed, throwing the ear piece somewhere deep in the forest behind the shed, deciding she would make up a story about losing the connection. She dropped to her knees a few yards behind the shed, digging quickly to shove the metal container down a hole. She stood up after packing the dirt in and took off towards the mansion.  
  
  
She charged in the front door and spotted one of Sloane's men standing a few feet away with his back to her. Sydney leveled her rifle at the man in front of her and squeezed the trigger. For whatever reason, the gun malfunctioned and didn't fire.  
  
  
She was stunned for an instant, but managed to recover, throwing her gun to the ground and tearing off the bullet-proof vest she was wearing because she knew it wouldn't provide her with much room to move.  
  
  
She was going to have to fight her way out of this mess.  
  
  
The man turned around just as Sydney was dropping the vest to the floor and Sydney delivered a round-house kick that succeeded in sending the gun the man was holding across the room. She leveled a kick at his head, but the man dodged and used Sydney's momentary shock to his advantage as he punched her square in the stomach.  
  
  
Sydney was sent sprawling on the hard floor, the back of her head smacking against it and combining that sudden pain with the pain already in her stomach and making her feel like she would faint. Another blinding pain shot through her body, leaving Sydney gasping for air, as the object in her body had apparently been jostled by the punch and the force of her landing.  
  
  
Sydney cried out, paralyzed for a moment, then finally regained her composure and tripped the man when he lunged towards her. She rolled out of the way as the man fell forward. Sydney leapt to her feet and grabbed the gun that had landed a few feet away. With a shaky hand, she squeezed the trigger twice, the first bullet slicing through the man's neck and the other penetrating the back of his head.  
  
  
Breathing heavily, Sydney checked the clip of the gun and was relieved to find that she had fourteen rounds left. This particular pistol held sixteen rounds and, luckily for Sydney, she was the first person to fire the clip.  
  
  
Sydney turned around and began to search various rooms, suddenly wishing she had her comm link. But she couldn't blow her cover. She decided to call for Vaughn, Will, and Sark—to see if they were nearby. She didn't care who heard her, even if it was one of Sloane's flunkies. She could fight off whoever came her way.  
  
  
"VAUGHN;!" Sydney heard her voice echo painfully in her ears as she climbed a set of stairs. "SARK;!"  
  
  
At that moment, there was gunfire coming from a floor above and Sydney felt her stomach drop to her feet. She took the stairs two at a time and ran into Vaughn when she reached the second floor.  
  
  
"Syd;, you're okay," Vaughn said frantically, touching Sydney's face as if he were unsure of the words he had just spoken.  
  
  
Sydney backed away from him, her mind on other matters. "I;'m fine, yes, but where are Sark and Will?"  
  
  
"I; heard gunfire. We changed our routes and Will took the top floor and I took the bottom floor, then I came down to the second because Sark needed help. I don't where they are now," Vaughn confessed. He gave Sydney a once-over and his eyes widened. "Where;'s your gun?"  
  
  
"It; malfunctioned." She held up the pistol she had taken from the man she had downed a few minutes before. "I; got this from one of Sloane's guys."  
  
  
Vaughn nodded and put his hands on her shoulders to turn her around towards the stairs leading up to the third floor. They ran up the stairs together, hearing more gunfire and some angry shouts. Sydney gulped, hoping that the gunfire was coming from Sark and Will's guns and not those of Sloane's guards.  
  
  
They rounded a corner and came face to face with several guards. Sydney took a boot to the chest and her gun fell from her hand before she could even grasp what was happening. Vaughn leapt into action, downing two guards with kicks to the sides of their heads and punches square in their noses, then went to work on a third guard as two others approached him.  
  
  
Sydney, who had gotten the wind knocked out of her, was trying to sit up and reach for her gun. She panicked when she saw a guard come up behind Vaughn as he was fending off another goon. "Vaughn;, move!" she cried hoarsely, and Vaughn dove to the side as Sydney rapidly squeezed a stream of rounds into the chests of two guards.  
  
  
They were safe for the moment, and Vaughn crawled towards Sydney and asked if she was all right. Sydney nodded and Vaughn got to his feet and bent down so he could gather Sydney in his arms and help her up. She stumbled forward as she stood, but Vaughn kept his arms around her until she was steady.  
  
  
"Thanks;," she mumbled, and breathed heavily as she tried to get her breath back.  
  
  
"You; too. You saved my life," Vaughn told her, brushing a few stray strands of hair away from Sydney's sweat-damp forehead.  
  
  
Despite the serious nature of the situation, Sydney managed to joke, "Now; where have I heard that one before?"  
  
  
Vaughn grinned and kissed her forehead, then declared, "We; need to find Will and Sark."  
  
  
Sydney took off, Vaughn on her heels and they searched the various rooms, calling out simultaneously.  
  
  
"SARK;!"  
  
  
"WILL;!"  
  
  
"Where; are you?!"  
  
  
Panting, they reached a room at the end of the hall, and Sydney nearly lost her balance at what she saw. "Jesus;," she murmured, running over to Sark and Will and collapsing on her knees beside them.  
  
  
Vaughn approached them slowly and sank to his knees besides Sydney. "Looks; pretty bad."  
  
  
"Yeah;, no shit, Vaughn," Sydney muttered, tearing off her zippered jacket and placing it over one of the wounds. Vaughn began to take off his jacket as Sydney pulled her shirt over her head, leaving her clad in a tight black undershirt. She put the shirt she had taken off on another wound.  
  
  
Vaughn tapped Sark's cheek and Sark's eyes fluttered open. Sydney felt her heart leap into her throat. Vaughn spoke. "Sark;, what happened?"  
  
  
"The; guards" he sputtered, "the; guards came and we fought themwe weren't quick enoughWill and I both got hit" He looked down and realized that his bullet-proof vest was missing. "How; bad?" He trailed off as he touched his fingers to some blood on his chest. "Oh; God"  
  
  
Sydney was close to tears. "You;'re going to be fine, Sark, do you hear me? You'll be fine."  
  
  
" Sark reached his hand that wasn't covered in blood to Sydney's cheek and caressed it softly. Sydney enfolded Sark's hand in hers and tried her best not to let her tears fall.  
  
  
"I;'m here, don't worry," she whispered. She looked at Vaughn when Sark turned away. Vaughn looked away from her as well and Sydney felt sobs clawing at her throat.  
  
  
Vaughn tapped Will's cheek and Will woke up. He tried to sit up but Vaughn pushed him back down. "I; think I'm good, man," Will insisted, and this time Vaughn didn't stop him when he tried to sit up. "Ow;! Christ" Will rolled up the pant leg to see his shin oozing blood into a puddle already on the floor.  
  
  
"I;'ll go call an ambulance, there's a hospital with CIA influence a few blocks down," Vaughn said and got to his feet after giving Will his jacket to wrap around the leg wound. There was a phone on the desk in the room and Vaughn picked up the receiver and dialed hurriedly. When someone on the other end answered, Vaughn quickly explained the situation.  
  
  
"Will;, what happened exactly?" Sydney asked, her voice meek. She still held Sark's hand in hers and she squeezed it tighter.  
  
  
"Vaughn; and I switched floors and Sark finished with the second floor so he came up here to give me a hand. Four or five guards charged us and Sark's vest got ripped off in the struggle. I was fortunate to only take a bullet in the leg, but—" he lowered his voice, "Sark; wasn't so lucky." He looked into Sydney's eyes and saw the tears in them. He reached a hand to her face. "I;'m so sorry, Syd, I tried—"  
  
  
"Shh;," Sydney coaxed, and reached her other hand up so she could grasp Will's hand on her cheek. She kissed his knuckles in reassurance, then looked down at Sark who was fighting to stay awake. Sydney felt her lower lip trembling as her eyes raked down his body, seeing a wound in his chest and two wounds in his legs.  
  
  
Will was trying to stand. "I; can walk if I can borrow someone's shoulder."  
  
  
"Here;, Will," Vaughn said, done with the phone and rushing to Will's side. He knelt down and threw one of Will's arms around his neck as he helped Will to his feet. Will winced, but managed to stand all the same.  
  
  
"Thanks;, man," he said, half-gasping, half-mumbling.  
  
  
"No; problem, big guy," Vaughn said, his voice a bit strained. He was about to tell Sydney to stand as well so the paramedics would have an easy path to Sark but decided against it. He sensed some sort of bond between them, but couldn't quite lay a finger on what it was. Either way, he knew she wasn't going to do what he said, so he wasn't even going to try.  
  
  
"Syd;, are you all right?" Will croaked before coughing and trying to clear his throat.  
  
  
Sydney looked up at him, her cheeks stained with tears and her eyes bloodshot. "I;'m fine." She looked back at Sark and took a deep breath. Another blinding pain shot through her entire body and Sydney felt like she was being burned alive. She gasped and one of her hands flew to her chest in an attempt to make the burning sensation go away.  
  
  
Will noticed each of Sydney's actions and reactions and said softly, "Syd;, you're not—"  
  
  
"I;'m *fine*, Will!" Sydney snapped, then realized that she was unleashing her anger and frustration on the wrong person. "Sorry;," she mumbled. "I;'m fine, though, don't worry about me, okay?"  
  
  
Will nodded and wobbled a bit on his feet. Vaughn caught him and they stood together, waiting patiently for the ambulance. Sydney looked up at Vaughn and Will.  
  
  
"Did; you guys get Sloane?"  
  
  
Will and Vaughn both shook their heads at the same time and Sydney felt a fist closing around her heart. Sark and Will had been hurt for nothing and Sark might not even survive. She suddenly felt a wave of guilt wash over her. She wondered whether or not she could have gotten to Will and Sark before Sloane's men did if she had kept her comm link or if she hadn't taken the extra time to conceal the page and bury the cylinder.  
  
  
Anger mixed with the guilt and she found herself wanting to strangle her mother. If her mother hadn't told her to get the page herself and keep it from the CIA, none of this ever would have happened. She would have gotten the page and sprinted into the mansion and she would have had time to help everyone fight off Sloane's guards.  
  
  
If Sark died, Sydney wasn't sure she would be able to handle it because she knew it was all her fault for listening to her mother. When she got back to Los Angeles, she would definitely give her mother an earful and see if she had anything less than vague to tell her.  
  
  
Sydney looked back down at Sark and tightened her grip on his hand again to try and help him stay awake. Sark looked up at her, the sparkle absent from his sapphire gems and Sydney swallowed a round of sobs in her throat. She leaned down and pressed her forehead to his, then kissed his eyelids, his nose, his cheeks, and finally his lips. She was certain that Vaughn was at least jealous of what she was doing, but she didn't care—this could quite possibly the last time she saw Sark alive and she wasn't going to resist showing affection towards him just because Vaughn was in the room.  
  
  
Sark's thumb brushed Sydney's cheek and he whispered, "If; I don't make it, I just want you to know that—"  
  
  
"Don;'t say it," Sydney told him. "Don;'t—"  
  
  
"I; love you."  
  
  
Sydney resisted the sobs that were clogging her throat for a minute or two as she tried to stay strong, but she felt herself steadily succumbing to them and began crying openly, her entire body shaking. "Y-y-you;'re going to m-make it," she said through her tears, leaning down and pressing her forehead to his again.  
  
  
" Sark said softly.  
  
  
"Sark;, don't you dare give up on me now," Sydney whispered.  
  
  
At that moment, footsteps were coming up the stairs and making their way down the hall into the room where Sydney, Vaughn, Will, and Sark were all residing. The next few minutes were a blur as Sydney was pulled back by the paramedics and Sark was hoisted onto a stretcher as Sydney barked at them to be careful. Will was put on a stretcher as well and Vaughn lifted Sydney to her feet and crushed her to his chest when she started to sob again. He knew she was afraid to leave, because leaving meant that she had to go the hospital and sit in a waiting room inhaling the distinctive hospital smell while waiting for an update on the condition of Sark.  
  
  
Slowly, Vaughn began to walk Sydney out of the room, but it was difficult because Sydney was stubbornly trying to keep her feet planted firmly on the floor. Finally, Vaughn slid his arm under Sydney's legs and picked her up. To his relief, she didn't protest, only wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her head in his shoulder as he carried her out of the room and began the long trek down the stairs and out of the mansion towards the ambulance.  
  
  
**A/N:** :\ *hug for you guys*  
  
On a side note, did you guys appreciate Ballsy!Vaughn? I mean, if JJ wrote him like I did in this chapter, I might actually be tempted to like the guy—"*tempted*." ;P


	26. Illusion

**Twenty-Six  
  
Illusion  
  
  
  
**

"Sydney;, he's going to be fine," Vaughn coaxed, leading Sydney over to a pair of chairs in the waiting room.  
  
  
Sydney slumped down into a seat, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. She wasn't crying, she had exhausted all of her tears in the ambulance. She nodded slowly and felt Vaughn's hand on her back, tracing circles. Unconsciously, she reached a hand down, pretending to scratch an itch, but actually checking to see if the page was still in place. She sighed a bit, relieved that the page was still there, then leaned back against the chair as Vaughn shifted and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.  
  
  
After a few minutes, Vaughn got up and began to walk back and forth, his hands shoved into his pockets. Sydney raised an eyebrow at him. "What; are you doing?"  
  
  
Vaughn looked over at her and shrugged nonchalantly. "Pacing.;"  
  
  
"'Pacing,'" Sydney repeated, shaking her head a bit.  
  
  
"What;?" Vaughn asked, almost defensively.  
  
  
Sydney looked down and wrung her hands, then said, "Isn;'t that more of a girl thing?"  
  
  
Vaughn frowned. "If; I sit too long, I'm going to go crazy. I needed to move."  
  
  
Sydney rolled her eyes and stood up. "I; was joking, Vaughn." Vaughn frowned again and Sydney muttered, "Throw; me a bone, here."  
  
  
Vaughn sighed. "Look;, I'm just a bit testy."  
  
  
Sydney narrowed her eyes at him and slowly enunciated her next words. "No.; Shit."  
  
  
"Syd;—"  
  
  
"Vaughn;, we're both worried. Obviously, I have more reason to be worried than you do because those two men mean more to me than anything. But seriously, if we both fixate on it and allow ourselves to be consumed by worry and fear, we're not going to have any strength left for when the doctors come back out with their verdict," Sydney said, her eyes blazing. She sighed and dropped back down in her seat.  
  
  
Vaughn looked at her for a few moments, trying to decipher her behavior. Just a short while before, she was in pieces, and now she was acting like what had happened wasn't affecting her. He figured it was because she was either embarrassed about breaking down earlier or she was trying to be as strong as she could, so if things *did* take a turn for the worst, she would be prepared. Or, maybe she was compartmentalizing like she had been forced to do when she was a double-agent. He sighed and sat down next to her as her head dropped onto his shoulder. His nose nuzzled her hair and he reached for one of her hands.  
  
  
Sydney breathed deeply, a shudder reverberating throughout her body. Vaughn tightened his hold on her hand and asked softly, "Syd;, are you all right?"  
  
  
Sydney sighed and moved closer to Vaughn, her head fitting into the curve of his neck. "I; think you know me well enough to know the answer to that question."  
  
  
Vaughn sighed as well and whispered, "Yeah.;"  
  
  
"It;'s impossible to die from a leg wound, isn't it?" Sydney asked after a few minutes of silence.  
  
  
In spite of himself, Vaughn managed a chuckle. "I; would certainly hope so." He looked down and saw Sydney's lips curve into a small smile. He knew she was trying to avoid talking about Sark because of the nature of his injuries. She wanted to focus on Will because she knew he would be okay and because she was afraid to admit to herself that she might lose Sark. Vaughn squeezed Sydney's hand. "Sark; will be fine, too, you know," he said gently.  
  
  
Sydney's smile faded. "It; was bad."  
  
  
"I; know," Vaughn said, "but; he'll make it. He's strong. We both know how tough he is."  
  
  
"He; can still be broken no matter how tough he is." The sadness and bitter truthfulness in Sydney's voice caused Vaughn to close his eyes for a moment and let everything sink in. More than just the tone of her voice affected him—it was also the meaning behind her words. Vaughn probably understood exactly what she meant better than anyone.  
  
  
"You; should rest," Vaughn said finally, and Sydney looked up at him and nodded slowly. Vaughn patted his leg. "Makes; a good pillow."  
  
  
Sydney smiled faintly at Vaughn's kindness and resourcefulness, and lay down on her side by him, her cheek on his thigh. She curled her legs up because there wasn't enough room to stretch out and closed her eyes, hoping she would fall asleep quickly. "Thanks;," she whispered.  
  
  
"Mhm;," Vaughn murmured, placing a hand on Sydney's hair and stroking the strands with his fingers.  
  
  
After a bit, Sydney announced, "I; have a question."  
  
  
Vaughn continued to thread his fingers absently through Sydney's chestnut locks as he prompted, "Yeah;?"  
  
  
"Does; Michelle know that you work for the CIA?"  
  
  
Vaughn ceased his stroking of Sydney's hair because of two revelations—Sydney referring to his wife by name and asking a question that he hadn't expected her to ask.  
  
  
"Vaughn;?" Sydney asked, wondering why Vaughn had stopped and why he was taking so long to answer what she believed was a simple question.  
  
  
"Yeah;, she knows," Vaughn told her, twisting some of Sydney's hair around his fingers and using his other hand to briefly rub the top of Sydney's head in something that both he and Sydney decided was an action of reassurance. Reassurance of what though, neither one knew.  
  
  
Sydney sighed a little. "When; you tell her you have to go on a mission, what does she do?"  
  
  
Vaughn's hand stopped again. "What; do you mean?"  
  
  
"I; mean, does she get really worried—almost to the point of freaking out—or does she smile and give you a kiss and say she'll see you when you get back?"  
  
  
Vaughn laughed a bit, as did Sydney. "Well;, in the beginning, she *would* almost freak out, like she was sending me off to war or something and might never see me again. But now, she basically just tells me to be careful and that's about it."  
  
  
"Ah.;"  
  
  
"Well;, I'm sure she worries," Vaughn said quickly. "I; would, too—and have," he added as an afterthought, and he noticed that Sydney tensed because she knew what he was talking about.  
  
  
"You; mean like when I was still a double-agent and you would worry about whether or not I would come back from a mission," Sydney clarified.  
  
  
"Yeah;," Vaughn said with a sigh, his hand moving down Sydney's arm, over the gooseflesh that had risen on her skin. She reached for his hand and Vaughn grasped it, squeezing gently, and using his other hand to once again rub the top of Sydney's head.  
  
  
Sydney didn't let the irony escape her—the two of them like this, just living in the moment, a glimpse of what could or might have been. She thought about what her mother had told her—that she had to acquire The Telling and go back to the night of her fight with Allison Doren. She still didn't know exactly why she had to go back, but her mother had her made her believe that it had something to do with the object in her stomach. She decided that would be the first thing she asked her mom when she got back to Los Angeles. She had to know what it was and what it represented.  
  
  
She sighed. When she went back, assuming everything went according to plan, she would be with Vaughn and Sark would be in CIA custody. A shiver ran down her spine. She would have to choose between the men. Should she give the relationship between herself and Sark a chance since he was the only other person besides her and her mother who would know about The Telling's reversal, or should she stay with Vaughn and pretend that nothing had ever happened between her and Sark?  
  
  
Her stomach tightened into a knot and a dull ache settled into her chest. She remembered Sark talking to her in the mansion. He had told her he loved her. She decided that she probably loved him, too, if their conversation on the plane was any indication.  
  
  
_When they pulled apart, Sydney bit her lip shyly and looked into Sark's eyes. "Do; you think it's possible to be in love with someone after only going out for a couple of days?"  
  
  
Sark looked far into Sydney's eyes and pushed a few strands of hair behind her ear. "I; don't know."  
  
  
Sydney nodded slowly and looked down just as Sark pulled her against him, planting soft kisses in her hair and on her forehead. She sighed softly. "It;'s been a really long time since I last told someone I loved him," she whispered.  
  
  
Sark's breath was hot against Sydney's ear. "I;'m not sure if I've ever said it to anyone before."  
  
_  
Tears creeped into her eyes. She *did* love Sark. And, when—_if,_ a voice in her mind reminded her—he had recovered, she knew she would love him even more. But there was another question—did she love Vaughn as well? Sydney swallowed hard. In Hong Kong, she had decided that she missed what they had because it was simple and she had been cared for, but she wasn't certain if she was in love with Vaughn. Even so, if she went back, she would have ample time to discover if she did. But since Sark would know about the reversal, he would be sitting in the cell at the CIA hoping against hope that he would be released and be able to take Sydney in his arms and continue their romance.  
  
  
Sydney drew in a shaky breath and sniffed, blinking furiously to fight back her tears. She felt Vaughn's hand on her cheek and she prayed that her tears wouldn't fall.  
  
  
"I;'m fine, Vaughn," she assured him before he could ask.  
  
  
"Just; making sure," Vaughn said softly, his thumb caressing her high cheekbone.  
  
  
Sydney reached a hand up and grasped Vaughn's thumb, then brought his hand down towards her chest where she interlaced their fingers. Without thinking, she raised his hand to her mouth and began to gently kiss his knuckles. Vaughn started to pull his hand away, but Sydney kept her grip on it, and began to suck lightly on the tips of his fingers. At this point, Sydney wasn't sure if she was doing it to try and find a bit of peace where she didn't have to worry about Sark surviving, or if she was thinking ahead to when she would be using The Telling to go back and possibly keep what she had with Vaughn alive.  
  
  
"Sydney.;"  
  
  
Sydney closed her eyes and briefly wished that she could take back what she had done. She let go of Vaughn's hand. "Sorry;," she mumbled, and stood up. She crossed her arms over her chest, vaguely aware of a wave of desire that was coursing through her body.  
  
  
Vaughn stood up and went over to her, putting his hands on her shoulders. "I; know why you're doing this, Sydney."  
  
  
"Why;?" Sydney asked, her voice flat and disinterested.  
  
  
"You;'re worried about Sark."  
  
  
Sydney gritted her teeth. "Your; point being?"  
  
  
"Jesus;, Syd, I don't know. All I know is that I have a wife and all of a sudden, you're kissing my fingers." Vaughn spun Sydney around and turned her face towards him when she looked away. "Syd;, there can't be anything between us, you *know* that."  
  
  
"Yeah;," Sydney said, looking into Vaughn's eyes, "I; do. I also know that I apparently didn't mean much to you if you couldn't even wait longer than a few months before you went to find some other woman to *fuck*."  
  
  
Vaughn's eyes went wild with rage, but Sydney stood her ground. She was breaking through and she knew Vaughn wasn't liking it. "You; know I cared about you, Sydney. You know that what we had together after SD-6 was gone was incredibly special to me." He sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose with the index finger and thumb of his left hand. Sydney clenched her teeth upon seeing Vaughn's ring. "Syd;, what was I supposed to do? Wait for a body and be miserable in the process? If I hadn't met Michelle, who knows—I might have been driven to suicide. That's how bad it was, Sydney. I didn't know what to do, I was a complete wreck."  
  
  
Sydney tried to step away from him, but Vaughn kept his hands on her shoulders. She looked up at him, seeing a million emotions in his eyes. She knew he cared about her, but she didn't realize it would hurt him this much to accuse him otherwise.  
  
  
"Sydney;, I just—" He shook his head. "I; was devastated, okay? I was just—"  
  
  
"Vaughn.;"  
  
  
Vaughn frowned a bit and looked at her. Her eyes were filled with tears and he knew that she was obviously feeling burned by the fact that he had moved on and she was still stuck in having to deal with the fact that he had slipped through her fingers without her permission. He couldn't imagine what she must have gone through and what she was still going through. It wasn't fair to her. But it also wasn't fair for him to suffer.  
  
  
"Syd;, I'm sorry, but I wasn't going to let myself waste away. I mean Christ, if you were in the same situation, wouldn't you have tried to move on? Tried to find some shred of happiness? It was painful without you, Sydney, but I can't—"  
  
  
He was silenced by Sydney's lips on his. He forgot about his rant and wrapped his arms around her, cupping the base of her head in one hand and resting his other hand on her back. Sydney thread her fingers through Vaughn's short hair and slipped her tongue into his mouth as she pressed her body against his. She momentarily forgot the fact that they were making out in the middle of a hospital.  
  
  
Luckily, no one was around.  
  
  
They finally pulled back, breathless and Vaughn looked into Sydney's eyes. " was all he could manage, " She nodded and he said it again. "Sydney.;"  
  
  
  
  
Sydney sat up and surveyed her surroundings.  
  
  
"Sydney.;"  
  
  
Sydney wiped at her eyes, vaguely aware that she had been crying earlier.  
  
  
"Sydney;?"  
  
  
She blinked a few times, trying to figure out what was going on. She heard her name again and squinted to see Vaughn sitting next to her, rubbing her shoulders and trying to get her to come back to reality. She swallowed and opened her mouth to speak, but her throat was still clogged with sobs.  
  
  
"What;'s going on?" she managed to choke out.  
  
  
"Syd;, we just got to the hospital," Vaughn explained and Sydney looked around to see that they were in the ambulance. "You; passed out."  
  
  
Sydney nodded slowly. "Sark; and Will have been taken in already?" she asked, looking around and finding that both stretchers were gone.  
  
  
Vaughn nodded and stood up, then jumped down to the asphalt. He reached a hand out to Sydney and she stood and grasped it, nearly stumbling when she made it out of the vehicle. She swiped at her forehead and realized that a thin sheen of sweat had formed. It had been a dream—kissing Vaughn in the hospital.  
  
  
"Are; you all right?" Vaughn asked, running his hands up and down Sydney's bare arms.  
  
  
Despite the muggy atmosphere, Sydney felt cold and wrapped her arms around herself, wishing she had on more than a thin undershirt. She shook her head in answer to Vaughn's question and felt herself succumbing to more tears as the reality of the situation—Will with a leg wound and Sark with a chest wound and two leg wounds—sunk in.  
  
  
"Come; here," Vaughn coaxed, putting his arms around Sydney, and tilting her head down so that it rested on his shoulder.  
  
  
"Sark;'s not going to make it, is he?" Sydney asked, but it was almost more of a statement than a question. She found it hard to believe that Sark would be able to survive his wounds.  
  
  
Vaughn hugged her tighter and put his arm around her shoulders so he could lead her into the waiting room. He didn't answer her question.  
  
  
"Tell; me," Sydney ordered, stopping abruptly and twisting out of Vaughn's grasp. He still didn't answer her, so she grabbed him by the shirt. "Tell.; Me."  
  
  
"Syd;, I don't know," Vaughn admitted, looking her straight in the eye. He saw her fury dissolve into sadness and he led her into the waiting room, his arm around her shaking shoulders. He sat her down in a chair and sat next to her. Almost immediately, she lay down and curled up on her side as she placed her head on his leg. Sydney closed her eyes, pushing aside the pain of knowing that Sark might not survive and instead pondering what her dream meant.  
  
  
Why had she dreamed what she had? She loved Sark. She felt her breath catch in her throat and smiled at the revelation. She loved Sark, she really did. When he came out of his surgery, she would march in and tell him so. But, there was still a sinking feeling in her stomach that stemmed from believing that Sark might not make it.  
  
  
Also, she had to deal with the fact that her mother had told her to reverse what The Telling had done, which would put her at the end of her fight with Doren and mean that she was still with Vaughn. Was she prepared for that? And, more importantly, did she *want* that?  
  
  
Her dream led her to believe that she wasn't over Vaughn like she had believed she was, and if that was true, where would that lead her in terms of her relationship with Sark? He would still be in the cell at the CIA. Plus, as Sydney had realized in her dream, Sark would know that they had gone back and would be expecting some sort of elaborate plan of escape so he could be with her.  
  
  
She knew she loved him. But she also knew that it would be incredibly difficult to break Sark out of CIA custody. If she did, she would probably be on the run forever because she wouldn't be able to be with him in a normal environment. She felt Vaughn's fingers sliding over her hair and she nearly lost her train of thought. In her dream, she remembered thinking about how she missed what she and Vaughn had had together.  
  
  
She realized then that she had a hard decision to make and she had no idea how she was going to make it.  
  
  
**A/N:** *snicker* Okay, how many of you guys thought the dream sequence was real and that I had lost my mind and was going to turn this into S/V? Heh. Well anyways, Syd *does* have a hard decision to make, unless she can convince Agent Lightbulb to let Sark out of the cell. Although, Sark needs to be alive first. He might not even make it. Hmmm Oh, I have to say to **Sassy** that I love the nickname Agent Wrinkle for Vaughn. Hee;x


	27. Solace

**Twenty-Seven  
  
Solace  
  
  
  
**

Sydney was nudged awake a couple of hours or so later by a doctor who said that Will was out of surgery and Sydney could see him if she wished.  
  
  
"Thanks;," Sydney mumbled, sitting up and trying to ignore the splitting headache that had surged into her temples the moment she woke up. She stood up and crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly self-conscious about the fact that she was wearing just a thin undershirt.  
  
  
The doctor's gaze drifted down to Sydney's chest. "You;'re bruised," he observed simply.  
  
  
Sydney's brow wrinkled in interest and she looked down to find that the part of her chest above the undershirt's low neckline was an array of navy blue and violet. She assumed it was from when she got kicked on the third floor of the mansion trying to help Vaughn fend off the guards. She wondered if her stomach was bruised as well because of the first kick she had suffered on the ground floor. She decided that the sudden headache was from the force of the kick to her stomach that had sent her sprawling on the floor and smacking her head on the hardwood.  
  
  
"I; can get you some ice," the doctor offered.  
  
  
"Thanks;," Sydney began, "but; I'm fine."  
  
  
"It; will help the swelling," the doctor insisted.  
  
  
Sydney gave him a small smile. "I; appreciate that, but I'll be fine."  
  
  
The doctor nodded and motioned for Sydney to follow him to Will's room. He gestured Sydney into the room where Will was and Sydney thanked him. She wandered over to a chair near the hospital bed upon which Will was lying. She gave Will a smile as she sat down and was relieved when he smiled back at her. She grasped one of his hands.  
  
  
"Hey;," she whispered.  
  
  
"Hey;," Will whispered back.  
  
  
"How; are you feeling?"  
  
  
Will nodded and said, "I;'m doing all right. I was told that my surgery went well."  
  
  
"Yeah;," Sydney replied and the two fell into a comfortable silence that was only disturbed by low, comforting humming sounds emanating from various machines. Sydney kept Will's left hand in her right and used her free hand to lazily run her fingers up and down Will's arm.  
  
  
Will freed himself from Sydney's grasp for a moment so he could sit up and lean with his back against the pillows, then reached for Sydney's hand. He looked over at her and saw that her red-rimmed eyes were almost drooping with her obvious fatigue. From this, he inferred that she hadn't been told anything about Sark's condition or else she would be grinning from ear to ear and bouncing off the walls. He decided to ask, though, if she had been told anything.  
  
  
"Have; the doctors mentioned anything about Sark?"  
  
  
Sydney looked up at Will and swallowed hard, then dropped her gaze again and shook her head.  
  
  
"I;'m sorry, Syd," Will said softly, gently squeezing Sydney's hand.  
  
  
Sydney forced the corners of her mouth to turn up in a small, reassuring smile for Will's benefit, then she sighed and focused on a stray mark on the wall that had suddenly caught her interest.  
  
  
Will followed Sydney's gaze, then looked at her as she continued to stare at the wall. Finally, he gently took Sydney's chin in his hand and turned her face towards him, giving her an apologetic half-smile, half-frown and planting a kiss on her forehead. Sydney managed a small smile and looked into Will's eyes. After a moment, Will dropped his gaze from Sydney's and noticed the bruises on her chest.  
  
  
He pointed to indicate to Sydney what he was looking at and said, "Syd;, you're—"  
  
  
"Bruised;, I know," Sydney said in a clipped tone. "I;'m fine."  
  
  
"Syd;, I can call a nurse to get you an ice pack," Will told her.  
  
  
"Will;, I'm fine. The doctor who led me in here already pointed it out to me and offered me an ice pack and I refused it. I'm fine."  
  
  
Will frowned and lifted Sydney's chin when she looked down. "Sydney;, it would be really nice if you could just not be stubborn for like, once in your life."  
  
  
Sydney sighed and looked down to inspect the bruising. She hooked her index finger in the neck of her shirt and squinted. She noticed a large bruise that covered her abdomen and sighed heavily, then clasped her hands together and put them in her lap.  
  
  
"You; got hit in the stomach, too?" Will asked, his voice both concerned and strained at the same time. Sydney simply nodded, avoiding Will's gaze. Sighing, Will pressed a button on a handheld remote to signal for a nurse, much to Sydney's annoyance.  
  
  
Not more than a minute later, an older woman with a strong Irish accent and red hair that was obviously going gray entered. "Yes;, yes, what d'ye need?"  
  
  
Will spoke. "My; friend needs—"  
  
  
"An; ice pack," Sydney cut in.  
  
  
"Or; two," Will added, ignoring the glare that Sydney gave him.  
  
  
"What; seems to be the matter, me dear?" the nurse asked, walking over to Sydney and laying a gentle hand on her shoulder.  
  
  
"I;'m just a little bru—"  
  
  
Before Sydney could finish, the woman gasped when she took a closer look at Sydney and saw the bruises on her chest. "Come; with me, dearie," she said, motioning for Sydney to stand up.  
  
  
Sydney would have protested, but she had already exhausted her arguments with the doctor and Will. Besides, the bruises were beginning to sting. She gave Will a small smile and stood up, then followed the nurse out of the room.  
  
  
"In; here, me dear," the woman said distractedly, as she pointed towards the entrance to a room that she apparently wished for Sydney to enter. "Let; me get ye some ice packs and a gown for ye."  
  
  
Sydney's ears perked up at the word "gown;" and she protested, "I; don't need a—"  
  
  
"Oh; hush now, dearie," the woman said and Sydney blushed with the embarrassment and annoyance of being told off. "I;'ll b'right back." With that, she rushed out of the room.  
  
  
Sydney narrowed her eyes at the doorway and sighed as she went to stand by the bed that the nurse was probably going to force her to lie on. She fingered the sheets while she waited, and, after a moment or two, the nurse came back in, thrusting a standard hospital gown at her. She was grateful when the woman turned her back and busied herself with the ice packs she had retrieved, allowing Sydney to dress. Sydney tugged off the thin undershirt and could hardly suppress the gasp that came after finding that both her chest and abdomen were not only bruised but quite swelled.  
  
  
The nurse heard Sydney's gasp and immediately turned around and marched over to see if she was all right. Sydney didn't even bother using the gown to cover herself because she knew the effort would be futile as the woman would have either asked Sydney to move it so she could inspect the damage or simply yank it away herself. Instead, Sydney peered downwards, using a finger of each hand to move the material of her bra just slightly so she could see if her breasts were bruised as well.  
  
  
Luckily, they weren't, and Sydney found herself grateful because she wasn't sure whether she would have laughed or been pissed off if her breasts had swelled well beyond their normal size.  
  
  
Sydney rolled her eyes when the nurse told her to take off her bra so that it wouldn't get wet from the condensation that the ice pack would release. "I;'m sure it'll be fine," she mumbled, throwing the gown on over her head.  
  
  
"Suit; yourself, lassie," the nurse said, shrugging and walking over to the bed. "Hop; up on 'ere."  
  
  
Sydney adjusted the gown and walked over to the bed. She hoisted herself up onto it and leaned back against the pillows. She didn't protest when the nurse lifted her gown up to place the ice packs on her chest and stomach. The nurse lowered Sydney's gown back into place, then frowned at her for a moment. Sydney raised an eyebrow.  
  
  
"Something; wrong?" she asked.  
  
  
"No;, no, me dear," the nurse said, shaking her head vigorously, "it;'s just that me shift ends in a few minutes, but I wanted to stay a little longer so I can be the one to personally keep ye posted."  
  
  
Sydney raised an eyebrow again before the woman's words sunk in. "You; mean with—"  
  
  
"The; young lad ye were with in the ambulance with the multiple gunshot wounds."  
  
  
Sydney sat up with a start, gripping the bar attached to the side of the bed. Her lower lip was trembling and her heart rate had accelerated to at least twice its normal rate. "Is; he okay?"  
  
  
The nurse took a moment to catalogue Sydney's reaction, then looked over her shoulder, out the doorway and down the hall before swiftly taking a seat in a chair next to Sydney's bed. She noticed Sydney's hand had assumed an iron grip on the rail and that her knuckles were steadily turning white. She looked up and saw that Sydney's eyes were wide with fear and anticipation, and she realized that Sydney obviously felt something deep for the man, whoever he was.  
  
  
She gently pried Sydney's fingers off the rail and held her hand in hers, finding herself relieved when Sydney did not resist the action. "I;'m not *quite* certain what 'is condition is, but ye'll be the first to know."  
  
  
Sydney leaned back against the pillows with a loud sigh and squeezed her eyes shut. Her fingernails attacked a dull itch on her forehead, then her hand dropped back to her side. She considered freeing her other hand from the nurse's grasp, but found herself somewhat comforted with the woman holding her hand and sitting with her.  
  
  
"So; who is the dashing young man, exactly?"  
  
  
Sydney found herself blushing and looked down when she sat up. "He;'s one-fourth of our team," she said, wanting to avoid talking about what Sark really meant to her.  
  
  
"Are; ye both close?"  
  
  
_Damn it,_ Sydney thought, then replied, "Yes;, I would say that we are."  
  
  
The woman pursed her lips thoughtfully as she nodded in response to what Sydney had said, then stood up. "I;'ll make one last check for ye, then my shift'll be over."  
  
  
"Thank; you," Sydney said softly, leaning back again and looking up at the ceiling. She heard the woman's footsteps start out of the room. "Wait.;"  
  
  
The nurse turned around. "Yes;, me dear?"  
  
  
"What;'s your name?"  
  
  
"Sin;éad," she replied, and Sydney could swear she saw a flush creep into the woman's face.  
  
  
Smiling, Sydney said, "Thank; you Sinéad."  
  
  
Sinéad returned the smile and gave Sydney a nod as she left the room, stopping at a counter adjacent to the room to check on Sark's condition. Sydney watched the exchange between Sinéad and the woman at the counter who was rifling through some papers. She strained to listen but the two of them were too far away. She sat up and gripped the rail again, but this time it was because her hands were shaking so badly she wasn't sure what else to do with them. Her heart hammered in her chest and tears were beginning to swim into her eyes.  
  
  
Sydney managed to compose herself when Sinéad turned back around and wandered back into the room. Her heart sank when she saw Sinéad's desolate expression but she was able to hold back the emotions threatening to spill forth.  
  
  
"He; lost a lot of blood," Sinéad said, "but; he just came out of surgery and he's having loads of transfusions."  
  
  
Sydney felt her spirits soar. "But; is he—"  
  
  
"Don;'t get your hopes up just yet," Sinéad said, waggling a finger at Sydney as if scolding her. She softened after a moment and gave Sydney a smile. "But;, I think he'll make it through just fine."  
  
  
Sydney suddenly felt weak and she fell back against the pillows, her eyes closed as tears streamed down her cheeks. _He's okay._ She heard footsteps coming towards her and wasn't at all surprised when Sinéad patted her hand and whispered that she was relieved and happy.  
  
  
Sydney opened her eyes and used the sleeve of her gown to wipe the tears off her cheeks. She sniffled and asked, "After; the transfusions, will I be able to see him?"  
  
  
A brief look of hesitation passed over Sinéad's features and Sydney realized that she wasn't joking about not getting her hopes up. "He;'ll have to rest first, obviously, but I'm certain ye'll be able to see 'im soon enough." She smiled a bit and patted Sydney's hand again. "Well;, I must be off. I'll probably be seeing ye tomorrow, love."  
  
  
Sydney nodded as Sinéad turned to leave, then sighed contentedly as she leaned back against the pillows again, staring up at the ceiling. A broad smile crept onto her lips and she sprang from the bed, wanting to tell Will what Sinéad had told her. She deposited the ice packs onto a nearby tray and pulled the gown over her head so she could pull her shirt back on. Cold air brushed her skin and made her shiver, but she wasn't about to be seen walking around in a hospital gown for fear a nurse may shoo her back into an empty room so she could rest.  
  
  
Crossing her arms over her chest, Sydney made her way out the door and down the hall, walking swiftly to Will's room. She knocked lightly on the open door, alerting Will to her presence and he beckoned her forth. Sydney grinned as she wandered into the room and bent over the bed to kiss Will's cheek. She sat down beside him and ducked her head to avoid his gaze, her cheeks reddening in color, but the smile still on her face.  
  
  
Will chuckled lightly and patted Sydney's arm. "What; changed in the last ten minutes?"  
  
  
Sydney looked back up at him, her smile narrowing a bit as her expression became serious and her eyes widened slightly. "The; nurse who got me the ice packs—Sinéad—she said that—"  
  
  
"You;'re referring to her by name?" Will asked incredulously before a grin stole over his features. "I; can't believe you're getting attached."  
  
  
Sydney giggled and swatted playfully at Will's arm. "Anyway;," she began again, grinning more than ever, "she; said that Sark's out of surgery and he's getting some transfusions because he lost a lot of blood, but it looks like he's going to be fine."  
  
  
Will looked surprised for a second, but it was a pleasant surprise and he smiled at Sydney. "I;'m so glad, Syd, I really wasn't sure he'd be able to pull through this." He reached for Sydney's hand and Sydney eagerly took his hand in hers.  
  
  
"I;'m so relieved," she said quietly, shaking her head slightly as she looked down at her lap. "I; was so scared. I mean, when I saw him with those bullet wounds and when he seemed more scared than I was, I knew that I needed to worry." Will nodded. "It;'s Sark, you know? He's not the type to worry about something like that, no matter how serious it is, simply because of his demeanor and his persona, but when he saw the blood" Sydney trailed off and a sob caught in her throat. She managed a smile when Will squeezed her hand. "I;'m just so glad that he's going to be okay."  
  
  
"Come; here," Will coaxed, wrapping an arm around Sydney's shoulders and pulling Sydney close to him.  
  
  
Sydney burrowed her head into the crook of Will's neck and sighed softly. Her eyes widened suddenly as a realization overcame her. "I;'m glad you're okay, too, did I tell you that?"  
  
  
Will spurted laughter and Sydney instinctively looked up at him with her eyebrows raised. Will rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Okay;, first off, you knew I was going to be okay, so I didn't expect you to go nuts over me, and secondly, you didn't have to say anything, Syd."  
  
  
"Well;—" Sydney started, then stopped, trying to think of what she wanted to say. "I; just, I don't know, I guess I was just so afraid that Sark wouldn't make it because of the wounds, and I saw you with your leg wound and I knew that it wouldn't be serious, and I knew that if I focused on both of you and worried myself out of my wits that I'd end up being—"  
  
  
"Syd;," Will began, pressing a finger to Sydney's lips, "it;'s okay. I understand, and I know what you're going through and what you went through." He kissed her forehead when she gave him a look that indicated she was unsure of his acceptance of her apology and pulled her into his arms again.  
  
  
Sydney sighed heavily after a few minutes of silence. "I; don't know what I would have done or how I would have reacted if you had been the one to have Sark's injuries."  
  
  
"Sydney;," Will said gently, "just; to be frank, 'what if's' suck."  
  
  
Sydney snorted and laughed into Will's neck. "I;'m sorry, I guess I just ponder things too much."  
  
  
"I;'ll say."  
  
  
Sydney tapped his cheek. "I; only mentioned it because of what had happened after I got home from Hong Kong and went through the pathetic gyrations the CIA had in store for me." She burrowed closer to Will. "You; were my rock, you know? You kept me grounded and prevented me from wallowing in self-pity or blaming what happened on people who didn't deserve to be blamed. I don't know if I ever thanked you for that." She paused. "So; thank you."  
  
  
"You;'re welcome," Will replied, laying a kiss in Sydney's hair. "Do; you know what time it is?" he asked sleepily.  
  
  
Sydney instinctively lifted her wrist to check the time. She still had on the watch that Will had given several Christmases before. Before she could tell him the time, Will spoke.  
  
  
"I; can't believe you're wearing that thing," he said with a laugh.  
  
  
"How; come?" Sydney asked, raising an eyebrow.  
  
  
"It;'s just—" Will stopped and shrugged the best he could with Sydney's head on his shoulder again. "I; never thought you would wear it."  
  
  
"Just; because it's 'gratuitously expensive'?" she asked, poking him in the ribs and recalling the comment he had made when he had given the watch to her.  
  
  
Will chuckled. "No;, just because I thought you didn't really like it."  
  
  
Sydney sat up and looked Will in the eye. "How; could I not like it, Will? For one, it's beautiful, and two, it was a gift from you." She watched the realization sink into Will's eyes. "I; love it, Will." She lay her head back on Will's shoulder after he nodded. Then she said, "Besides;, when I got back from the two-year absence, it was the only watch I had with a working battery."  
  
  
Will laughed then, knowing that something to that effect had to have been coming. "I; knew there was something more."  
  
  
Sydney poked Will in the ribs again as she stifled a laugh. "I;'m serious, though," she said through giggles, "it; really does mean a lot to me."  
  
  
They lapsed into silence for a while before they both felt sleep envelop them in its clutches.  
  
  
**A/N:** Aww.. hee, you should all know by now what a sucker I am for S/W stuff. Anyways, other than that, and besides the lively Sinéad, this chapter was kind of dull.. I even codenamed it "Filler; Chapter" before I actually thought of a real name;P Things should pick up soon, especially with Syd probably blowing up at her mother and demanding 47 explanations from her. The oval object should be revealed in the next chapter or so, as well as the significance of the page, and just *how* Irina knows all the shit she knows. Heh.  
  
Oh, I wanted to apologize for the amount of time it took to get this new chapter posted. I basically took forever writing it because I knew it would be kind of dull and I knew I'd be snoring when I wrote it (there were even times when I would write one or sentences at a time and practically be falling asleep;x). So anyways, I should have a new chapter posted by this weekend (I hope), assuming I don't have to write more filler stuff.  
  
*hugs all my lovely reviewers*  
  
One last thing.. to **Steph** about Agent Wrinkle. I swear, the first time I saw that name, I just giggled like crazy. I pictured a variety of things including an old, wrinkly Vaughn, and um.. certain parts of Vaughn being wrinkled other than his forehead.. hee g


	28. Awakening

**Twenty-Eight  
  
Awakening  
  
  
  
**

Sydney found herself slammed up against the wall of a small, dark, janitorial room in the hospital with a pair of lips attacking her own. She was lost in the kiss for a moment, then she regained her senses and pushed away the man who was bruising her mouth with his.  
  
  
"We; can't do this," she gasped before the man's mouth claimed hers again.  
  
  
"We; can," he insisted, pressing his body against Sydney's and grinding his hips against hers.  
  
  
"It;'s not right," Sydney said, but her protest was nullified by the moan that escaped her lips.  
  
  
The man smiled and captured Sydney's lips harshly again, as if determined to leave them bruised and swollen. His hands wandered up and down her body and the index finger and thumb of one of his hands found a hardened nipple and rolled it back and forth, then squeezed to the point of pain. Sydney yelped and the man released the sensitive nub.  
  
  
Sydney was pushed farther into the wall as the man's hand snaked down into the loose pants she was wearing. In spite of herself, Sydney spread her legs a bit, and when she did, she felt her knees buckle as the man's hand easily found its obvious destination. He used one arm that was wrapped around her waist to hold her up, and Sydney clenched her fists at her sides. She wasn't sure if it was due to the pleasure being enormously intense or if she was feeling guilty and making fists was the only way she had not to shove the man away and storm from the room.  
  
  
She was getting close to the point of no return, and she relaxed one fist and brought her hand up to the man's shirt and hauled him closer to her, slamming her mouth against his. Just when Sydney was about to go over the edge, the man removed his fingers, leaving Sydney dazed and confused, her body throbbing and on fire. The man unzipped and pulled down his confining pants, then lowered his boxers. Before Sydney could register what was happening, the man yanked her pants and panties halfway down her legs, then lifted her onto a stainless steel sink.  
  
  
Sydney gasped at the cool sensation against her hot skin, then bit her lip hard enough to bring blood when the man forced her legs apart and shoved into her. Sydney wound her arms around his neck for support as he gripped her hips, thrusting into her and dragging her closer to him.  
  
  
Sydney was drawing close again, and felt tears forming in her eyes because of the rough rhythm and her awkward position on the sink. Ironically though, it felt better than anything she had ever experienced before and Sydney wondered if that thought was rational or if it was induced by the stupor she was currently in. In any case, she started adding her own energy to the lovemaking, gripping the edges of the sink and propelling herself forward. The man groaned in response and their movements overlapped.  
  
  
"Oh; God," Sydney gasped, tossing her head back. _Soclosesoclosesoclose  
  
_  
He grunted in response, pumping harder and faster until he couldn't take it anymore and slipped a hand down to expedite Sydney's release when he reached his. Sydney exploded with a violent shudder, the man's name a whisper on her lips.  
  
  
"  
  
  
  
  
Sydney awoke with a start, her body flushed with heat and a thin sheen of sweat glistening on her forehead. She looked to her right and saw Will sound asleep in the hospital bed. She was about to start pondering her dream when she turned to her left and gasped loudly upon seeing Vaughn stretched out next to her on a couple of chairs. Both Will and Vaughn awoke at the sound of Sydney's gasp and Sydney pressed a hand to her chest to try and calm her rapidly beating heart.  
  
  
"Syd;, what's wrong?" Will and Vaughn both asked at the same time, their voices drowsy with sleep but thick with worry. Vaughn sat up and rubbed one of Sydney's shoulders.  
  
  
"N-n-nothing;," Sydney stammered, then stood up quickly. "I;'m going to get a cup of coffee." With that, she left the room and started down the hall towards the sign that indicated where the hospital cafeteria was located.  
  
  
She ducked into a restroom on the way and pressed her back up against the wall, trying to relax and calm down. She wiped her forehead with her arm, then took a deep breath and went over to one of the sinks. She ignored the shiver that ran down her spine at the memory of the sink in the janitor's room in her dream upon which she had had her brains fucked out, and managed to turn on the water.  
  
  
She put her hands under the cool running water and leaned down to splash the liquid on her face. She braced herself with her hands on the edge of the sink. She looked up and spied herself in the mirror. Droplets of water were dripping off her chin, her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were wide, but her general expression seemed to reflect something more akin to fatigue rather than shock.  
  
  
Sighing, she walked over to grab some paper towels and dab at her face. She balled up the towels and tossed them into the nearest wastebasket, then walked back over to the sink and peered in the mirror again. She sighed heavily, then walked out of the bathroom and made her way to the cafeteria. She spotted several large thermos-like containers and a few dozen stacked foam cups and felt her mouth begin to water.  
  
  
She plucked a cup from one of the stacks and filled it to the brim with the steaming liquid in one of the thermoses. She didn't bother tearing open any of the sweetener packets that were neatly arranged by the cups, and instead brought her cup to her lips and drank. The coffee burned her lips, tongue, and throat as she knew it would, but she didn't care.  
  
  
She lowered the cup and held it tightly in her trembling hand, and was suddenly startled by a female voice beside her. The cup sloshed liquid against the sides.  
  
  
"Morning; dearie." It was Sinéad.  
  
  
Sydney turned towards her and smiled faintly. "Morning.;" She turned her attention back to her cup and downed the rest of the coffee, then refilled it.  
  
  
Sinéad watched her curiously, then asked, "Something; the matter?"  
  
  
Sydney looked at Sinéad again and found Sinéad's eyes searching hers. Nervously, she looked down to avoid the scrutinizing gaze, then said quietly, "No;, I'm fine."  
  
  
"Ye; don't look fine, love," Sinéad said in a vaguely accusatory tone and tilting her head to one side.  
  
  
Sydney smiled again and took another sip of her coffee. "I;'m just a bit tense, I guess."  
  
  
Sinéad snorted. "A; '*bit*'? Dearie, you're more tense than you were yesterday."  
  
  
That caught Sydney's attention. "Am; I?" she queried. Sinéad nodded solemnly. "Jesus;," Sydney muttered under her breath.  
  
  
Sinéad looked at Sydney for a few moments more, then patted her shoulder. "I;'ll go see what I can find out, 'kay love?"  
  
  
Sydney nodded wordlessly and Sinéad gave her a small smile before walking away. Sydney clutched the cup tightly, then made her way back to Will's room. She looked in the doorway when she reached the room and gave Will and Vaughn a tentative smile.  
  
  
"Hey;," she greeted them, deliberately avoiding eye contact with Vaughn.  
  
  
"Hey;," Will and Vaughn said at the same time, but Will was decidedly more chipper. Vaughn seemed to be confused by the fact that Sydney had ignored him when she walked into the room.  
  
  
Sydney walked over to Will's bed and pecked him on the cheek before sitting down in a chair next to him. "How; are you feeling?"  
  
  
"Good;," Will replied. "Have; you heard anything about Sark?"  
  
  
Sydney felt her stomach drop to her feet and took a long sip of her coffee before casting her eyes downward and shaking her head. "No;, but I ran into Sinéad when I was getting some coffee and she said she would check for me."  
  
  
Will nodded and wrapped an arm around Sydney's shoulders, sighing quietly. Vaughn lightly touched Sydney's arm and Sydney nearly leaped out of her skin.  
  
  
"Syd;, are you okay?" Vaughn asked gently. "You; seem a bit—jumpy."  
  
  
Sydney turned to look at Vaughn and narrowed her eyes. "How; do you expect me to react when someone I care about might not live to see the light of another day?"  
  
  
Vaughn's expression hardened and he stood up after a moment, roughly grabbing Sydney's elbow. "I; need to talk to you."  
  
  
"Fine.;" She stood up and glanced at Will. "We;'ll be right back."  
  
  
Will nodded and Vaughn started to lead Sydney out of the room but she twisted angrily out of his grasp and led the way out herself. She walked about halfway down the empty hall and leaned with her back against the wall, fuming. She momentarily forgot the dream she had had earlier and instead focused on what Vaughn could possibly want to say to her.  
  
  
Vaughn sighed heavily and walked over to Sydney, laying a hand heavily against the wall. He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out something between a sigh and a groan and beckoned for Sydney to follow him. Sydney raised an eyebrow, but followed Vaughn nonetheless as he walked down the hall and looked to his left and right before putting his hand on the doorknob of a nearby janitorial closet.  
  
  
Sydney's lower lip began to quiver, but she managed to contain herself as she cast a quick glance around and went into the room after Vaughn had opened the door. Vaughn looked around once more before entering the small room and quietly shutting the door and locking it.  
  
  
"So; the real janitor won't disturb us," he explained wryly, before Sydney could ask.  
  
  
"What;'s to disturb, Vaughn?" Sydney demanded. "We;'re just talking."  
  
  
Vaughn blinked and Sydney barely made out his irises in the low light of the room. The dream came back to her when Vaughn stepped closer to her, trapping her against the wall.  
  
  
"Vaughn;?"  
  
  
Vaughn stared into Sydney's eyes for a couple of moments before stepping back and pacing the small space, mindful not to trip over misplaced buckets or brooms. He ran his fingers through his hair distractedly, then turned back to look at Sydney.  
  
  
"Do; you remember that day when we had to go down to medical services to see if either of us had that virus from the red ball you blew up in Taipei?" he asked.  
  
  
"Of; course," Sydney replied, a small smile crossing her lips at the memory. When Vaughn didn't return the smile, she frowned and asked, "Why; do you ask, Vaughn?"  
  
  
"Do; you remember, a little later that day, when we were both sleeping and you woke up and I told you that you talked in your sleep?"  
  
  
Sydney swallowed hard and looked down at her feet. "Yes.;"  
  
  
Vaughn sighed again and Sydney felt his behavior fraying her nerves.  
  
  
"Vaughn;, stop beating around the bush and get to the point."  
  
  
Vaughn's head snapped up and he looked Sydney straight in the eye. "Earlier;, when you were sleeping, I heard you moan my name."  
  
  
Sydney leaned back against the wall and sighed. She crossed her arms over her chest and shrugged her shoulders. She wasn't going to allow herself to feel intimidated or embarrassed by Vaughn's words. Besides, she certainly couldn't take back what she had said, if Vaughn was telling the truth, so what did it matter? "I; don't know what to tell you."  
  
  
"How; about you tell me 'why,' Sydney?" Vaughn said, his tone harsh. He took a couple of steps towards her, then stepped back, not sure that standing close to Sydney would help the situation.  
  
  
"Vaughn;, I don't remember my dreams," Sydney said flatly, and felt her stomach tighten at the lie.  
  
  
"Sydney;, you're lying to me and I know it. Just tell me the truth and we can forget we ever had this conversation."  
  
  
Sydney was silent for a bit, trying to weigh her options. She could either keep up her lie or she could tell him the truth and see how he responded. She felt her stomach tighten again as she remembered the dream she had had when she was asleep in the ambulance, when she and Vaughn had argued in the hospital waiting room and ended up kissing. When she had pondered that dream, she had decided that she had a decision to make—whether or not she wanted to pursue her new relationship with Sark. She had decided that she loved Sark and that she would tell him if and when she got the chance, but she still found herself conflicted over Vaughn.  
  
  
This new dream of a janitor's room fuck proved that.  
  
  
Even if she still felt something for Vaughn—be it lust or something more—she couldn't make the decision of acting on those feelings because Vaughn was married. She wasn't about to lose her moral integrity or cause Vaughn to lose his just so she could satisfy a fantasy.  
  
  
But there was still The Telling. Her mother had told her that she would have to go back, even though she wouldn't say why. Even so, when Sydney went back, she would still be Vaughn's girlfriend. But, Sark would be in CIA custody and he would know that The Telling had been reversed and would probably be waiting for Sydney to get him out.  
  
  
She pressed her palm to her forehead and wasn't the least bit surprised that she was sweating. "Look;," she began, shaking her head slightly, "I; had a dream about you this morning. We—um—well, we had sex on a sink like that one—" she pointed to the sink in the room, "—in a janitor's room like this one." She shrugged again. "Like; I said, I don't know what you want me to tell you." She looked at him for a moment, trying to gauge his reaction, but his expression was guarded. Sighing, she started for the door. "I; need to see if Sinéad has—"  
  
  
Sydney was quieted by Vaughn's mouth on hers. She didn't protest nor stop him, even though her mind was screaming that what they were doing was wrong. Vaughn pulled back after moment, and peered into Sydney's eyes which were clouded by desire.  
  
  
"You; still have feelings for me," he said, his voice deep and gravelly.  
  
  
"So; do you," Sydney replied, her voice low and sounding something like a purr.  
  
  
Vaughn claimed her mouth again and pushed her farther against the wall, his hands finding her waist and slowly sliding up, lifting Sydney's shirt in the process. Sydney stopped him before he could pull it over her head.  
  
  
"This; is wrong," she rasped.  
  
  
"Probably;," Vaughn said, a devilish glint in his eye.  
  
  
Sydney pushed him back a bit. "You; have a *wife*, Vaughn. You're married for Christ's sake."  
  
  
Vaughn lifted his left hand up so Sydney could see and pulled off his wedding band and stuffed it into his pants pocket. "Not; for the next few minutes I don't." He leaned in to capture Sydney's lips again but she stopped him.  
  
  
"Vaughn;, what the hell is the matter with you? This isn't like you to—to—"  
  
  
"Sydney;—"  
  
  
"The; Vaughn I know wouldn't do this," Sydney said simply, gazing into Vaughn's jade gems.  
  
  
Vaughn smirked at her. "Maybe; you don't know me as well you thought you did."  
  
  
"Vaughn;, I'm serious, we can't do this," Sydney protested weakly.  
  
  
"You; want to, Syd, I can see it in your eyes."  
  
  
"Bullshit;," Sydney muttered, but she had no doubt that Vaughn was telling her the truth. She *did* want this—*him*—but she didn't want to admit it to herself. She would be cheating on Sark and Vaughn would be cheating on his wife, and everything rational in her mind was telling her that she couldn't do this, but her libido was beginning to win out.  
  
  
Vaughn brushed his lips lightly against Sydney's. "Live; for the moment," he told her, his voice low and gravelly again.  
  
  
So she did.  
  
  
Sydney grabbed Vaughn's shirt roughly, pulling him as close to her as she possibly could and welcoming his mouth on hers. Vaughn's tongue slipped past her lips, stroking, teasing, and Sydney used the remaining concentration she had left to pull Vaughn's shirt off so her hands could roam his chest. Her shirt came off as well and Sydney slid her fingers into Vaughn's hair as his teeth nipped at her pulse.  
  
  
Vaughn lifted Sydney's bra above her breasts, and proceeded to torture a stiff nipple with his tongue as his thumb and index finger pulled and twisted the other. Sydney whimpered and her hands slid down to wrap around Vaughn's hardness straining against his pants. Vaughn lost his concentration for a moment and Sydney released her hold and moved her hands up to Vaughn's face, bringing his mouth down to hers.  
  
  
Sydney didn't remember pulling down her pants or panties so that they dropped down to her knees, but she did remember Vaughn pushing his pants and boxers halfway down his legs after he had roughly lifted Sydney onto the sink. Sydney cast a quick glance downwards and was grateful that her pants weren't so far down that Vaughn could see the page.  
  
  
That was her last thought before Vaughn spread her legs as far as her pants would allow and impaled Sydney with one stroke. Sydney bit her lip so she wouldn't cry out. Vaughn kept the pace hard and fast and Sydney vaguely realized that in the other times they had made love together, it had never been this raw and primal.  
  
  
She gripped the sink when Vaughn dug his fingers into the sensitive skin of her hips and thrust even harder into her as he pulled her closer to him, reaching greater depths. Vaughn's firm strokes were forcing the air out of her lungs at a record pace and she thanked her lucky stars that she was close to release.  
  
  
"Jesus;, Syd," Vaughn groaned, and wrapped an arm around her back to bring her close to him as his other hand wandered up to tweak one of her nipples.  
  
  
Sydney opened her mouth to cry out but Vaughn slammed his mouth down onto hers and Sydney gasped instead. She felt Vaughn's fingertips probing her down below and she threw her head back and fell into him as he spilled himself inside of her.  
  
  
"Vaughn;," she moaned softly, her eyes closed as she relished the moment.  
  
  
"Sydney;," Vaughn heaved, leaning forward and resting his forehead on Sydney's shoulder. "I; love you."  
  
  
  
  
Sydney's eyes popped open and she lifted her head from Will's shoulder and looked around. Will was asleep and it was still dark outside, as Sydney observed when she cast a glance towards the window. She deduced that she must have only been sleeping for a couple of hours since she had first been called into to see Will. She looked to her left, and found that Vaughn wasn't there, as he had been in her dream.  
  
  
_Or my dream within a dream,_ she thought, and sighed deeply.  
  
  
Sydney still had no idea why Vaughn was permeating her dreams so strongly, so forcefully, to the point where she couldn't resist him even when she tried so hard to do so.  
  
  
_I love *Sark*, damn it,_ she told herself angrily,_ why am I dreaming about Vaughn? Especially when he's *married* for God's sake!  
  
_  
Sydney looked over at Will and managed a smile at his sleeping form. She wondered if it was a given fact that anyone, no matter how great they looked when they were awake would always look ten times more adorable when they were sleeping. Sydney wiped the thin sheen of sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand, then leaned her head back on Will's shoulder. Will stirred a bit and reached for Sydney's hand, which Sydney offered to him appreciatively. He grasped it, and went still again, deep in sleep.  
  
  
Sydney smiled again and closed her eyes, willing herself to have a dreamless slumber. Much to Sydney's displeasure, she wouldn't have a chance to sleep at all, as someone was now gently tapping her on the shoulder. She opened her eyes to find herself face to face with Sinéad and the doctor who had first told her that she could see Will.  
  
  
Her heart sank when she saw the serious expressions on their faces, and she pressed her lips together to prevent them from quivering. Unfortunately though, she couldn't stop the tears that swam into her eyes when the doctor spoke, his tone cold and detached—  
  
  
"Come; with us."  
  
  
**A/N:** *narrowly avoids airborne things that likely have sharp points* I'm truly evil, aren't I?;) Sorry, I can't help it. On the cliffie side, well.. cliffhangers are good;) On the smut side, I had to satisfy my urges even if it wasn't real and even if it *was* poor Syd screwing Agent Wrinkle.. *giggles* Gawd, that is the best nickname ever.. Even though the sex was a dream, I certainly hope for Sydney's sake that.. well, I won't go there.. g Hee, rofl, poor Syd;x  
  
To **Mrs. Curls**, I'll work on 'F.P.' eventually.. I just have to get into the 'F.P.' mindset;x As for 'Next,' hah.. well.. I made a mistake in attempting a sequel to a story that didn't need one, so that one's not going anywhere. Oh, about Sark's name.. g Well, I can tell you that the initials will be an ironic acronym;x We'll find out his name next chapter.  
  
*hugs everyone*  
  
See you all soon with the next chapter;)


	29. Learn

**Twenty-Nine  
  
Learn  
  
  
  
**

_Trance  
I'm in a trance  
Universe is full of stars  
Nothing out there looks the same  
You're the one that I've been waiting for  
I don't even know your name_  
  
—Madonna  
"Impressive; Instant"**  
**

  
  
  


Trembling, Sydney stood up. The doctor turned on his heel and began to walk out of the room and Sydney cast a nervous glance towards Sinéad, who simply followed the doctor's lead. Sydney looked over her shoulder to see that Will was still asleep, then followed Sinéad.  
  
  
She walked slowly as her feet felt like lead and she was having a difficult time moving them. She prepared herself for the worst. Why else would both the doctor and Sinéad have been so cold towards her? Sark had to be dead, there was no other explanation. Sydney shivered violently as she followed at a safe distance behind the two.  
  
  
A whimper escaped her throat as tears slid down her face, and Sydney had to reach out and steady herself against the wall as she continued to walk. She kept her eyes fixed on the ground, not wanting to see the sign that said "MORGUE;" on it in threatening letters that she knew they would inevitably pass. The doctor and Sinéad stopped a few feet in front of Sydney and waited patiently for her to catch up. Sydney kept her slow pace until she approached the two, then stopped and looked up.  
  
  
She realized that they were standing in the ICU and that there were several rooms around the ward. She looked around and felt her hopes rise again. Her heart beat faster and she wondered if Sark was okay and if he was being held here and she was allowed to see him.  
  
  
_Or maybe he's dead and they want you to take one last look at the body before they ship it down to the morgue,_ said an eerie, echoing voice in her head. She brought her interlocked hands to her chest in something of a prayer, then dropped her hands by her sides and looked up at the doctor and Sinéad who had turned to face her.  
  
  
Her voice shaky, Sydney said, "Is-is; he o-okay?"  
  
  
"It;'s too soon to tell," the doctor said after a few moments of silence that grated on Sydney's nerves.  
  
  
Narrowing her eyes and feeling anger well up inside of her, Sydney spat, "What; the fuck does that mean?"  
  
  
"Calm; down love," Sinéad coaxed, patting Sydney's arm.  
  
  
Sydney twisted away angrily. "I; don't want to calm down, I want to know if the man I love is alive or dead!" Sydney felt a wave of realization slide over her. It was the first time she had said aloud that she loved Sark.  
  
  
The doctor and Sinéad stared blankly at Sydney after her outburst, neither one daring to speak.  
  
  
Sydney sighed and decided to try a different approach to get the information she wanted. "Look;, Doctor—" she thrust her hand out and grasped the doctor's name tag on his coat and twisted it in the fluorescent light so she could see, "Dr.; Lynch, all I want is a simple answer. A simple 'yes' or 'no' to the question of whether or not he is alive."  
  
  
"Yes;," Lynch said, without missing a beat, "he;'s alive."  
  
  
Sydney felt as if she would sink into a puddle of goo. "Really;?" she asked, her voice soft and a bit unsure, but full of hope.  
  
  
Lynch simply nodded and gestured with his hand towards the closed door of Sark's room. Sydney's gaze went from Lynch to Sinéad and back again. Not quite knowing exactly how she should handle the situation, she stepped forward and gave Lynch a quick hug, then did the same with Sinéad.  
  
  
Smiling weakly, Sydney said, "Thank; you so much," and hurried towards the closed door. She opened it slowly, afraid of what she might find. She was terrified that Sark may have had to have a leg amputated or if he would be marked up with scars. She went inside and saw Sark sound asleep, looking truly angelic.  
  
  
Her heart literally skipped a beat and Sydney felt it deep in her chest. She closed the door softly behind her, then made her way over to the hospital bed. She watched Sark sleep and put a hand to his face, gently brushing his hair away from his face. She felt fresh tears spring into her eyes and her mouth curved into a smile when his nose twitched slightly.  
  
  
She took one of his hands in hers and thread her fingers through his, then leaned down to gently kiss his forehead. Sark stirred a bit, but did not awaken. Sydney kissed his temple, his cheek, his nose, and finally lay the softest kiss upon his lips.  
  
  
Sark's eyes fluttered and Sydney felt her heart leap into her throat. Sark squeezed her hand and managed a small smile. "Hi.;"  
  
  
Sydney released the sobs that were pent up in her throat and mumbled, "H-h-hi.;"  
  
  
"Sydney;," Sark said, his voice rough and deep. He reached his free hand up to Sydney's face and wiped away the tears on her cheeks.  
  
  
"Oh; God, Sark, I didn't think you would—"  
  
  
"Shh;," Sark whispered, putting a finger to Sydney's lips. "It;'s okay."  
  
  
Sydney forced herself to nod, and leaned down, pressing her lips to Sark's. He responded eagerly, threading his fingers through Sydney's hair and parting her lips with his tongue. They broke apart after a few moments, both of them breathless. They found themselves grinning at each other and Sark pulled Sydney back down for another kiss.  
  
  
They pulled apart again, and this time Sydney pressed her forehead against Sark's forehead, the tips of their noses just barely touching. They closed their eyes at the same time, both of them taking everything in and trying to deduce if it was real or not.  
  
  
Sydney's next words confirmed the reality—  
  
  
"I; love you."  
  
  
Sark grinned at her when he opened his eyes and found himself staring into her dark amber orbs. Sydney grinned back at him, tears welling up in her eyes. Some escaped and fell onto her cheek and Sark pressed his cheek against hers, feeling the connection between them deepen.  
  
  
For a while, they stayed that way, their breathing in sync and their hearts singing the same tune. Finally, Sydney sat down in the chair beside Sark's bed, her fingers still entwined with his.  
  
  
"How; did we get so far so fast?" Sydney wondered aloud, resting her head on Sark's shoulder.  
  
  
"Don;'t know," Sark replied, nuzzling Sydney's hair with his cheek.  
  
  
Sydney wiped her eyes and sat up to look into Sark's bright sapphires. "I; was thinking," she began, and flashed Sark a thoughtful smile.  
  
  
"Hm;?"  
  
  
"Well;, I was just thinking how weird it is that we've come so far so fast in this relationship and I still hardly know a damn thing about you." Sydney grinned broadly at the flush that rose in Sark's cheeks.  
  
  
"You; already know my darkest secret," Sark said with a shrug. Sydney raised an eyebrow. "Oh;, don't tell me you forgot already," Sark said with mock hurt.  
  
  
"You; can't seriously be talking about—" Sydney stopped herself and leaned close to whisper, "the; fact that you wanted to be a rocket scientist when you were little."  
  
  
Sark leaned close as well, his lips almost touching Sydney's. "Yes;," he whispered back.  
  
  
Sydney grinned and tousled Sark's hair. "You; are so adorable."  
  
  
Sark smirked at her and raised an eyebrow a bit. "Is; that so?"  
  
  
Sydney leaned closer, her upper lip just barely grazing Sark's bottom lip. Her lips curled slightly to reveal her upper teeth which scraped lightly against Sark's lower lip. "Yes;," she purred, "that;'s so."  
  
  
Sark flicked his tongue out and ran it across Sydney's lips. Sydney shivered at the ever so slight tickling sensation and claimed Sark's mouth with hers. She felt an aching deep in her core as they kissed and silently wished that Sark wasn't injured as badly as he was so that she could just take him right on the hospital bed. She chuckled at the thought, prompting Sark to ask what was funny.  
  
  
"Nothing;," she said with a catty smile, running her fingertips up Sark's toned arm. Her fingers moved to his chest, and she felt a bandage underneath the standard-issue hospital get-up he was currently sporting. She forced herself not to freak out about the injuries because she knew it would only make her upset and she wouldn't be able on the fact that Sark was alive and she was with him.  
  
  
Sark caught her hand. "'Nothing' like the 'nothing' when we talked on the phone day before yesterday?"  
  
  
Sydney froze, remembering the conversation that had left her hot and bothered when she had called Sark from her father's apartment and the two of them had set up a date at the beach before the mission. She licked her lips and purred, "Is; it so bad that I want you?"  
  
  
Sark stiffened (but not like that) and held Sydney's chin in his hand. "Not; at all."  
  
  
Sydney's body was on fire and she knew she had to think of a quick way to cool down. "What;'s your first name?" she asked in a thoughtful tone, looking directly into Sark's eyes.  
  
  
Sark smirked at her and replied, "Well;, first off, 'Sark' is just an alias. It's not part of my name at all."  
  
  
"What; made you choose it?"  
  
  
"There;'s an island in the English Channel with that name. I've been there once or twice and I decided I liked the name and decided to use it," Sark explained with a simple shrug of his shoulders.  
  
  
"So; what's your real name?" Sydney asked, unable to resist the urge to nibble gently on Sark's earlobe. His sharp intake of breath and momentary loss of concentration pleased her.  
  
  
"'Bryan,'" he said smoothly, managing to keep his voice steady despite the fact that Sydney's tongue was now in his ear.  
  
  
"'Bryan,'" Sydney echoed, sitting up and looking at Sark. "I; like it."  
  
  
"I;'m glad you approve," Sark said with a nod.  
  
  
"How; about your last name?"  
  
  
Sark frowned. "I; hate my last name."  
  
  
Sydney poked him in the ribs. "Tell; me," she said, her tone curious.  
  
  
Frowning again, Sark mumbled, "It;'s 'Darling.'"  
  
  
Sydney ducked her head to hide her grin and giggled a bit. Sark rolled his eyes at her and shook his head. After a moment, Sydney calmed down and said, with as straight a face as she could and a wistful sigh, "My; darling Bryan." She managed to hold the straight face for about two seconds before giggling again and this time Sark joined in.  
  
  
"You; see why I didn't use it?" he asked between chuckles. "I; used to get teased all the time in school."  
  
  
Sydney's ears perked up when Sark mentioned school. "What; schools did you go to?"  
  
  
"I; went to a boarding school for the most part," Sark told her. "Definitely; didn't help when I became interested in girls as it was an all-boys school."  
  
  
"Yikes;," Sydney said sympathetically, then whispered, "although;, the idea of"  
  
  
"Do; not even go there, Sydney," Sark ordered, then began chuckling when Sydney cracked up.  
  
  
"You; know, my dad actually sent me to an all-girls school," Sydney admitted.  
  
  
"Really;?" Sark drawled.  
  
  
"I; lasted two days and begged to go back to a regular school," she said with a laugh.  
  
  
Sark smirked at her. "Damn; shame."  
  
  
Sydney frowned in good humor and mussed up Sark's hair again when he began to chuckle. "Men;," Sydney said with a sigh, shaking her head slightly.  
  
  
"Of; course," Sark said with a grin, and Sydney swatted at him playfully.  
  
  
"So; what's your middle name?" Sydney asked after the laughter had died down and the silliness had been taken down a notch.  
  
  
"It;'s 'Andrew.'"  
  
  
Sydney raised an eyebrow and cocked her head to one side. "Wait; a minute"  
  
  
"Oh; Christ," Sark muttered, putting his head in his hands.  
  
  
"'Bryan Andrew Darling,' 'B.A.D.,' 'bad'?" Sydney said, her voice filling with laughter. "The; acronym of your name is 'bad'?" Her head dropped onto Sark's shoulder as she giggled insanely.  
  
  
"Yes;, yes," Sark said with an exasperated sigh.  
  
  
Sydney looked up at him and was careful not to dissolve into another fit of giggles. "Okay;, so, wouldn't you say that's a *tad* ironic?" One side of her mouth turned up in an amused grin.  
  
  
"What; makes you say that?" Sark said, hiding his smirk.  
  
  
"Well; gee—" Sydney began, but Sark interrupted her.  
  
  
"I; know what you're getting at, Sydney. Trust me, I do. But, let's just skip that, all right?"  
  
  
Sydney nodded, wanting to put this behind her. She didn't want to fight, especially about something like this. She had already decided that she and Sark had both led vastly different lives and major chapters of their lives had been finished and new ones had begun. She looked up at Sark and found him staring into her eyes. An amused smile danced across her lips.  
  
  
"What;?"  
  
  
Sark sighed a bit and ran a hand through his tousled curls. "I;'m not sure if I should bring this up, but there's something that I think you should know."  
  
  
Sydney's eyes darted back and forth as she searched Sark's gaze, trying to figure out what he might be talking about. She swallowed hard and said, "All; right."  
  
  
"Do; you remember our first date? When we discussed your last memory before you woke up to find yourself in Hong Kong?"  
  
  
Sydney suddenly felt weak but she wasn't exactly sure why. "Yes.;"  
  
  
"When; you said the last thing you remembered was killing Allison Doren?" Sark continued, his voice relatively quiet.  
  
  
"Yes;," Sydney said, hardly above a whisper. She had an idea of where this was going and she was afraid of getting to that point.  
  
  
Sark was silent, not sure if he should be revealing so much to Sydney. He decided he needed to, though. If things were truly going to work between them, he needed to get this out in the open so it wouldn't weigh on him forever. "I; loved her."  
  
  
Sydney's head snapped up and she stared hard at Sark. "Y-you; what?"  
  
  
"I; *loved* her," Sark repeated, more slowly this time. "You; asked if we were close, but I wasn't about to tell you that she had been my girlfriend and that in my pathetic little existence she had been the one person who I could truly trust, the one person who knew everything about me. The one person who even had a shred of good feeling towards me." Sark looked down even though Sydney's eyes were focused on the floor rather than boring into his eyes. He felt tears surge into his eyes and he blinked them back.  
  
  
Sydney considered throwing in the fact that Sark's little girlfriend had killed her best friend in the world, the one person who Sydney had managed to prevent from falling into the spy world. She decided against it and instead leaned back in her chair, the back of her head pressing against the wall. She closed her eyes.  
  
  
How was she supposed to react to this? Was she supposed to apologize? Was she supposed to say, "Well;, gee, Sark, I'm sorry I killed her even though it was really tit for tat because she killed someone very close to me, but that's the way it had to be"?  
  
  
"No; one is truly innocent in this line of work," she said softly. She hoped Sark took that to mean that she felt guilty about harming someone he cared about but that she didn't do it without proper reason.  
  
  
Sark nodded in simple agreement.  
  
  
"I; don't know what else to say, Sark, I really don't," Sydney said sincerely, and reached for Sark's hand. She avoided his eyes, knowing that eye contact was too much for the both of them right now.  
  
  
Sark grasped Sydney's outstretched hand. "I; understand, Sydney."  
  
  
The two of them were silent for a while, both of them trying to let the awkward moment pass completely before either one dared say something else.  
  
  
"How; are you feeling?" Sydney asked, turning slightly towards him, but still not looking into his eyes. She was afraid to do so and she had no doubt that Sark was, too.  
  
  
"Better;," Sark answered, grateful that the subject had shifted to something decidedly less serious and decidedly less hurtful for the both of them.  
  
  
Sydney leaned her head on Sark's shoulder and blinked back the tears that emerged into her eyes. She shuddered when a sob shook her body. "I; can't believe I came so close to losing you."  
  
  
Sark wrapped his arms tightly around her. "Sydney;, it's okay. I'm fine and everything's fine." He paused a moment, letting Sydney calm down. "Okay;?" he said finally.  
  
  
"Yeah;," Sydney mumbled as she sniffed and burrowed deeper into Sark's neck. "I; love you."  
  
  
"I; love you, too, Sydney."  
  
  
Sark combed his fingers through Sydney's hair and kissed the top of her head. He twisted his head slightly and saw that Sydney had already fallen asleep. He listened to the rhythm of her breathing and watched how the side of her mouth twitched now and then. He stroked her cheek with his palm, his thumb smoothing across her high cheekbone then sliding down until it traced the line of her jaw. She sighed softly and Sark's heart stopped for a moment, creating a tightening feeling in his chest until his heart resumed beating.  
  
  
She was so beautiful.  
  
  
Sark held her closer, still watching her sleep. He found himself trying to figure out how he had been so lucky to be able to be with such an amazing woman—a goddess in her own right.  
  
  
He looked at her again, finding it ironic that he found so much innocence in her face, but it was mixed with an uncertain expression that Sark thought was there because of everything she had gone through. She had a weariness about her that made Sark yearn to protect her. He sighed and kissed her eyelids then leaned his head against hers and slipped into a peaceful slumber.  
  
  
**A/N:** Hm Okay, yeah, I really need to write some Sarkney smut. Like, umnow. Especially after writing so much S/V dream sex. Blech. Anyways Oh yeah, I updated 'F.P.' and in one or two more chapters I can finally put the guilt of starting a new story when I had one in progress already behind me. Yay. *hugs everyone*  
  
On a side note, JG, VG, and LO are ALL nominated for Emmy's!! WHOOOO HOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *bounces off the walls* 'Alias' got 11 nominations total, yaay!!


	30. Confession

**Thirty  
  
Confession  
  
  
  
**

_Ain't it funny how some feelings you just can't deny  
And you can't move on even though you try  
Ain't it strange when you're feeling things you shouldn't feel  
Oh, I wish this could be real  
Ain't it funny how a moment could just change your life  
And you don't want to face what's wrong or right  
Ain't it strange how fate can play a part  
In the story of your heart_  
  
—Jennifer Lopez  
"Ain;'t It Funny"**  
**

  
  
  


Sydney opened her eyes to find herself stretched out across several uncomfortable chairs with a major ache in her back from said chairs. She yawned and rubbed her eyes, then froze when she felt a light pressure on her right ankle. Fearing the page would be found, she sat up quickly, swinging her legs and planting her feet firmly on the floor.  
  
  
She managed to hide the wince of pain as the muscles in her back became more aggravated than they already were. She swallowed hard and tried to ignore the fact that her heart was thumping rather painfully in her chest as she turned towards Sark and managed a small smile.  
  
  
Sark frowned, slightly perplexed by Sydney's behavior. "What;'s wrong, Sydney?"  
  
  
Sydney struggled to contain the shiver that ran down her spine and threatened to betray the guilt she was feeling. "Nothing;," she said quickly, averting her gaze to the floor and tucking her hair behind her ear.  
  
  
"You;'re sure?" he asked, tilting his head to the side to try and catch Sydney's gaze.  
  
  
"Yeah;, yeah, I'm fine." She looked over at him and smiled, then asked, "How;'d you sleep?"  
  
  
"Quite; well," Sark answered, "all; things considering."  
  
  
Sydney flashed Sark an apologetic frown as her shoulders automatically slumped. "I;'m so sorry."  
  
  
Sark shook his head, then reached towards Sydney, grasping her chin in his hand. "It;'s not your fault, Sydney."  
  
  
Sydney took a deep breath, prepared to argue with him, even though she knew her protest wouldn't hold water, then decided against it. Instead, she moved closer to him and resituated herself so that she was on her knees on the chair, hovering above Sark. She leaned down, pressing her lips to Sark's. One of her hands was on the rail of the hospital bed and the other was on Sark's cheek and sliding up to tangle in his blond locks.  
  
  
Sark took interest in the kiss rather quickly, his hands finding Sydney's hips as he sat up slightly, ignoring the sudden rush of pain that reverberated throughout his body. His hands slid up and he used his tongue to part Sydney's lips before his fingertips slipped underneath Sydney's tight shirt and touched the soft skin of her stomach.  
  
  
Sydney moaned into his mouth and found herself seriously considering taking Sark right on the hospital bed. The sensible part of her brain reminded her that it wasn't an option, so she pulled back before things could go any further and before she found herself at the point of no return.  
  
  
Sark just stared at her, his eyes smoldering with an unquelled desire that sent tingles straight to her core. Sydney stared back at him, surveying his tousled hair, his flushed face, and his slightly agape mouth that was clearly begging for her tongue. Her heart fluttered and she leaned over to give Sark one last kiss before settling back down into the chair.  
  
  
Sark braced himself on the rail of the bed and moved so that his lips brushed against Sydney's ear. "You;'re cruel."  
  
  
Sydney turned her head towards Sark and pressed her forehead against his. She exhaled deeply and didn't respond to Sark's comment, but closed her eyes instead. She gently pried Sark's fingers from the rail and held his hand in hers. She kissed Sark gently, then leaned back in the chair, sighing heavily.  
  
  
Sark looked at Sydney a moment before laying back down and sighing as well. "Are; you sure there's nothing wrong?"  
  
  
"I;'m sure," Sydney insisted, but the knots that her stomach had tied itself into indicated otherwise. "You; just startled me."  
  
  
Sark nodded and reached out a hand to stroke his fingers through Sydney's hair as Sydney fell asleep again.  
  
  
  
  
A while later, Sydney had separated herself from Sark's side long enough to announce that she was going to check on Will. She bumped into Vaughn in the hall and the two stared at one another for a moment. Sydney realized quickly that her heart was pounding and managed to flash Vaughn a smile.  
  
  
Vaughn smiled back, a warm smile that went straight to Sydney's heart. After a moment, Sydney's smile faded, and she surmised that she needed to confront her feelings head-on. She didn't care what the consequences were, nor did she care if Vaughn felt the same way. She just needed to put everything out in the open so that she could make a decision.  
  
  
She loved Sark. That was a given. But her feelings for Vaughn ran deeper than she ever thought they could. She frowned slightly and sighed, looking into Vaughn's eyes.  
  
  
"You; okay?" he asked, his brow furrowing in concern.  
  
  
"Yeah;," Sydney replied, nodding. She bit her lip and looked into Vaughn's eyes again, wondering how much she could convey to him in the simple action.  
  
  
Vaughn frowned and tilted his head to one side. "Sydney;, if there's something wrong, you can tell me. You know that." He smiled at her, as if to assure her that he meant what he said.  
  
  
"I; know," Sydney said, quickly averting her gaze to the floor, "but; it's just that—well—it's just hard for me to say." Her voice had grown steadily weaker with the last few words.  
  
  
Vaughn stepped closer to her, a confused expression on his face. He tilted his head farther down to compromise for the slight height difference and so he could look directly into her eyes. Sydney found herself focusing on Vaughn's lips which were several inches from hers. She stepped back, needing to put distance between them before she lost all inhibition and began to kiss Vaughn right then.  
  
  
Sydney glanced around the hallway, seeing doctors and nurses shuffle back and forth down the stretch of linoleum. "Is; there a place around here that's relatively quiet?" she asked softly.  
  
  
"Maybe;," Vaughn answered, studying Sydney's gaze, trying to determine why she was acting so oddly.  
  
  
"Actually;," Sydney began, her eyes sweeping the hall, looking for empty rooms, "let;'s just go outside."  
  
  
Vaughn nodded and turned to start walking down the hall. Sydney followed, but at a fair distance behind Vaughn. She was nervous as it was, and Vaughn's presence wasn't making things easier in the least.  
  
  
Once they were outside, Sydney took a deep breath, inhaling the fresh morning air. "Look;," she started, as Vaughn turned to face her, "I; don't know any other way to say this except to just say it." Vaughn looked at her imploringly and Sydney gave a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders as she said, "I; still have feelings for you."  
  
  
Vaughn sucked in a breath and blew it out slowly as he raked a hand through his hair. He chewed on his lower lip, avoiding Sydney's gaze for the moment. Of all the things Sydney could have said, admitting she still had feelings for him wasn't what Vaughn would have ever expected her to say. As it was, he had no clue how to react. He still had feelings for her as well, and he knew they would never go away, but he accepted it. He and Sydney were on different paths and, given their current situations, those paths could never converge.  
  
  
That said, what could he do? They both wanted each other, but their circumstances prohibited it—at least on the moral front. Vaughn finally made eye contact with Sydney and found her looking at him with something akin to hope. It took all of his willpower not to just march right up to her, grab her, and kiss her senseless.  
  
  
Instead, he simply looked at her and shoved his hands into his pockets as he rocked back and forth in his shoes. Suddenly, a smile crossed his lips and he began to laugh. Sydney narrowed her eyes at him for a moment before beginning to chuckle.  
  
  
"I; don't know what to say, Sydney," Vaughn said with a shrug once the laughter had died down, "I; really don't. But if it helps in any way at all, I still have feelings for you, too. I just—I mean—I have no clue what we're supposed to do about this."  
  
  
"I; know," Sydney said quietly, "and; frankly, I really don't know whether my feelings for you just stayed with me or if something just suddenly triggered them to spring up again." Part of that was a lie in the sense that she had realized the existence of the feelings due to some dreams. But, part of it was true, because she didn't know if she was just suppressing the feelings rather than letting them go for a while.  
  
  
Vaughn sighed. "So; what the hell do we do?"  
  
  
Sydney shook her head sadly. "I; don't know."  
  
  
Vaughn paced. "You;'re with Sark and I'm married to Michelle."  
  
  
"Right.;"  
  
  
"Yeah.;"  
  
  
They were silent for a bit, simply looking at each other with pensive expressions.  
  
  
"Are; you in love with Michelle?" Sydney asked. It struck her as something of a dumb question, and she had a feeling it would strike Vaughn the same way, but it was one that needed to be answered before she could even begin to contemplate her decision.  
  
  
"Yes;," Vaughn said finally, nodding slowly as if to emphasize his answer. "Are; you in love with Sark?"  
  
  
Sydney looked down at her shoes. She *was* in love with Sark. She knew she was and she wasn't going to deny it. She just couldn't understand how it was possible to feel so deeply for two men at the same time. She felt bad about it because she knew that she would be leading one of them on, especially when she used The Telling to go back. Still, though, she needed to explore both options.  
  
  
Before she had been captured by Sloane, things had been going well between her and Vaughn. She cared about him a great deal, but always kept him at arm's length because of an insistent fear that she might lose him. After she had woken up in Hong Kong, returned home, and eventually started dating Sark, she had let herself go. She was completely open with Sark and she found that she had enjoyed that, being able to be so relaxed with him.  
  
  
Then, she had almost lost him and he had admitted to her that he loved her. Once she had been able to see him in ICU, she had admitted that she felt the same way, and she knew that even though their relationship had progressed at a breakneck rate, the words she had spoken were not empty.  
  
  
"Yes.;"  
  
  
Vaughn nodded and stuffed his hands deeper into his pockets before taking his hands out of his pockets and running both through his hair. Sydney sighed a bit and shook her head.  
  
  
"So; what *do* we do?" she asked, catching Vaughn's gaze when he looked up at her.  
  
  
Vaughn strode towards Sydney and cupped her face in his hands as he pressed his lips to hers. Sydney's arms wound around his neck and her hands slid into his hair. Sydney's mouth opened under Vaughn's and she felt her knees grow weak at his sigh of obvious relief.  
  
  
They pulled back, both of them breathless. A feeling of calm hung in the air and Sydney found herself smiling with Vaughn returning the gesture.  
  
  
"Remember; in Hong Kong when I wanted that last kiss for us?" Vaughn asked, his voice rough and gravelly.  
  
  
"For; closure," Sydney said, nodding.  
  
  
"Well;, that did nothing except bring my feelings for you back to the surface."  
  
  
Sydney grinned, her cheeks growing warm. She studied Vaughn's eyes after her smile had faded. "How; can we both have strong feelings for two people at the same time?"  
  
  
Vaughn shook his head. "I; don't know."  
  
  
Sydney drew back and crossed her arms over her chest. "This; feels wrong." Vaughn nodded. "How; do we even *do* this? I mean, how do we handle it?"  
  
  
"I; think we need to find out if it's worth it to end what we have with the people we're already committed to."  
  
  
Sydney narrowed her eyes. "How; the hell do we do that, exactly?"  
  
  
Vaughn stepped back and pinched the bridge of his nose. "We; need to evaluate where we are in our relationships. You love Sark, I love Michelle, but we apparently still have feelings for one another."  
  
  
"It;'s like a cheesy romantic comedy come to life," Sydney said with a sigh.  
  
  
Despite their less than desirable situation, Vaughn laughed and Sydney managed a half smile.  
  
  
"So; for now," Vaughn began, "we;'ll just act like everything's fine. We'll act like we never had this conversation."  
  
  
"What; if it doesn't work?" Sydney asked.  
  
  
"What; if what doesn't work?"  
  
  
"What; if we're able to somehow get back together and it doesn't work out? We'll have disappointed the people who care about us the most and we'll have to learn to be friends," Sydney explained. "Is; this really worth the risk?"  
  
  
"Isn;'t it?" Vaughn demanded, and Sydney was taken aback.  
  
  
"You; mean are we both willing to put ourselves out there and basically betray the people we love so that we can see what might have become of our relationship had the whole two years bullshit never happened?"  
  
  
Vaughn just stared at her. "When; you put it that way," he said slowly, "then; you obviously aren't, and to be honest, I'm not sure if I am, either."  
  
  
Sydney licked her suddenly dry lips and crossed her arms over her chest. "What; was this, then? The confession of feelings? Was that all for nothing?"  
  
  
"No;, no," Vaughn insisted, stepping towards her, "if; anything, I think it's good that we're on the same page and that we can come to terms with this if need be. There shouldn't be any secrets between us, Sydney. You and I have always been completely honest with each other. I don't want that to change."  
  
  
"So; for now," Sydney began, taking several steps towards Vaughn, "a; little closure." She pressed her lips to Vaughn's and placed her hands on the side of his face. The kiss lasted but a few seconds, although the effect and meaning behind it would last much longer.  
  
  
  
  
Sydney awoke with a start, looking around to survey her surroundings. She put her head in her hands and tried to forget about the Vaughn dream. She decided she was growing tired of the dreams and the fact that her mind seemed to be playing tricks on her with the whole reality of her feelings for Vaughn. She would probably never even get as far as her dreams suggested because, for one, she was in love with Sark; and two, she wasn't even certain that she *wanted* to explore what could have been with Vaughn.  
  
  
She sighed. In some ways she was kidding herself, but she knew that Sark meant a hell of a lot more to her than Vaughn did or ever would. Her feelings for Vaughn seemed to stem from the disgust she still felt about having Vaughn snatched away from her without her knowing.  
  
  
She leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees as she continued to contemplate her confused state of mind. She looked to her right, intending to see how Sark was holding up and was faced with the harsh reality of an empty hospital bed. Fear welled up inside of her and she tore from the room, looking for a nurse or doctor from whom she could demand an explanation.  
  
  
Once out in the hall, she bumped into Sinéad. "Where; is he?" she questioned haughtily.  
  
  
"He;'s been doing much better, so he was transferred to a normal recovery room," Sinéad explained, taking Sydney's trembling hands in her own.  
  
  
Sydney managed to nod and stepped back once she regained her composure. She inhaled deeply and pressed her back against the nearest wall, shutting her eyes. She felt immensely guilty that she had been fantasizing about Vaughn when she should have been celebrating the fact that Sark was no longer in ICU and was recovering faster than she could have imagined. She drew in a shaky breath, barely managing to prevent the sobs in her throat from convulsing her.  
  
  
Sinéad stepped towards her and cautiously lay a hand on her shoulder. "Just; so you know, dearie, this usually isn't the type of reaction people 'ave when they get this type of news."  
  
  
Sydney let out something that was between a laugh and a sob and Sinéad smiled warmly at her. Sydney was about to ask if she could see Sark but Sinéad was already leading the way, beckoning for Sydney to follow.  
  
  
Sinéad stopped abruptly in the doorway of Sark's room and Sydney almost bumped into her. Sydney raised an eyebrow and attempted to peer around Sinéad to figure out what was going on when Sinéad said, "Love;, what're ye doing? Ye need to stay in bed, you're not well enough to be up and about!"  
  
  
Grinning, Sydney slipped past Sinéad and into the room to see Sark hobbling around on a pair of crutches.  
  
  
"You; expect me to stay in that bloody uncomfortable bed all day?" Sark snapped, and Sydney bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud at Sark's mock anger.  
  
  
Sinéad narrowed her eyes and waggled a finger at Sydney. "Talk; some sense into 'im!"  
  
  
"I; will," Sydney promised as Sinéad turned and left the room. She smacked Sark upside the head and hid her smile when Sark growled. "She; *is* right, you know," Sydney said as Sark walked around with the crutches a bit more.  
  
  
Sark groaned and mumbled, "Of; all the nurses in this hospital, I had to be stuck with—"  
  
  
"Stop; it," Sydney said with a chuckle. "She;'s only looking out for you."  
  
  
"Right;," Sark muttered, turning around and walking back towards Sydney. When he reached her, he slumped down into a chair and sighed heavily.  
  
  
Sydney raised an eyebrow, but sat down as well. "This; is probably a stupid question, but I take it you're feeling a hell of a lot better."  
  
  
Sark nodded, then asked, "When; are we leaving?"  
  
  
Sydney snorted. "When; you're well enough to go."  
  
  
"I;'m assuming I won't be the judge of when that is," Sark mumbled.  
  
  
Sydney just smiled and raked her fingers through Sark's tousled curls. After a few minutes, she stood up and Sark stared at her. She gestured towards the bed with a slight jerk of her head and said gently, "Come; on."  
  
  
Sark rose from the chair and leaned the crutches against the wall as he attempted to climb back up on the bed. He dismissed Sydney's offer to help, and managed to end up on the bed with little more than a few pained groans. Sydney grasped one of Sark's hands once he got settled and thread her fingers through his. She looked up at him to find his deep blue eyes burning into hers. As Sydney lowered Sark's mouth to meet hers, one thing was certain—  
  
  
Vaughn was the furthest thing from her mind.  
  
  
**A/N: **Hee;) Gosh, I'm so evil with all the dream stuff, aren't I? Hah;x  
  
So anyways, I apologize for the lack of updates, but I think I'm *sort of* back on track. Then again, I still have summer reading (six damn books) for my AP Brit Lit class (and school starts 8/26. Yes, I am majorly F-ed). Stupid senior year.. speaking of which, I have senior portraits tomorrow. Fun! Not. Yeah, I'm not looking forward to it.  
  
In happier news, I'm working on chappy 31, so it should be up soon, and there's going to be Sarkney smut soon, I promise. All this S/V crap is killing me. But, on the S/V front, sometime in the period that I hadn't been updating, I realized that I don't really mind the 'ship. My friend Ash thought I went crazy (especially when I told her I had a screen cap of the 'Phase One' kiss on my desktop and wasn't barfing all over), but I told her I sort of mellowed by reading Manimal and Regina's recaps over at TWoP;x  
  
In any case, I'm not an S/Ver by any means, but I do have some tolerance for the stuff. So yeah. I'm evolved or something. But, I'm definitely in dire need of Sarkney smut, so expect S and S to be all over each other very soon.  
  
*hugs all my readers*  
  
~E


	31. Secrecy

**Thirty-One  
  
Secrecy  
  
  
  
**

Sydney rifled through her suitcase on the plane, looking for something to wear. She had told Sark, Will, and Vaughn that she was going to head back to the plane to shower and most likely take a nap. They had agreed, and Sydney left the hospital.  
  
  
She took out her bag of toiletries then pawed through the clothes in her suitcase. She decided on jeans and a turtleneck, then propped her leg on a seat. She rolled up the pant leg and grabbed the page and the torn piece of fabric from her pants. She rolled up the page, wrapped it in a shirt, then stuffed it in a large pocket of her suitcase.  
  
  
She cast a nervous glance towards the entrance of the cabin, as if afraid that someone would walk in and catch her trying to conceal the page. As she rolled her pant leg back down and proceeded to zip up her suitcase, she vaguely registered the fact that her heart was beating much faster than she preferred.  
  
  
Shaking her head to try and quell her trepidation, she flipped open an overhead compartment and shoved her suitcase into it, slamming the compartment door with a disgusted sigh. She was still feeling sick about betraying the CIA for her mother, especially considering what had happened. The whole mission had been a bust except for the page, and the CIA wouldn't even get it.  
  
  
Sydney gathered up the clothes she had decided to wear and made her way to the plane's small shower. Sighing, she turned on the water and began to strip. After she was undressed, she put a hand under the water and decided it was warm enough. She climbed into the shower and tilted her head back, so as to let the water rain down on her body.  
  
  
The pain, confusion, frustration, and anger seemed to disappear the longer Sydney stood under the water. She closed her eyes as a soft moan escaped her lips.  
  
  
  
  
A while later, Sydney emerged from the shower. After toweling off, she got dressed and brushed her slick hair. She gathered up her dirty clothes and her small toiletry bag and walked back out in the cabin. She couldn't suppress her gasp of surprise at seeing Vaughn sitting on one of the couches, his elbows resting on his knees. He looked up.  
  
  
"I; didn't mean to startle you," he said quietly.  
  
  
"You; didn't startle me," Sydney protested, then blushed when Vaughn flashed her a knowing look. "Maybe; you did a little bit."  
  
  
Vaughn gave her a crooked smile, then patted the cushion of the couch. "Come; here."  
  
  
Sydney nodded, then mumbled something about needing to put some things in her suitcase. Vaughn agreed with a nod, and Sydney made her way over to the overhead compartment where her suitcase was residing. She juggled her clothes and bag in one hand and hauled the suitcase out and onto a seat with the other hand.  
  
  
She unzipped it, stuffed everything into an empty compartment, zipped it back up, then stowed it away again. She looked over at Vaughn to find him smiling almost shyly at her and walked over to the couch. She surprised herself by not feeling a shred of lust, love, or whatever the emotion was that had occupied her dreams.  
  
  
She just simply felt comfortable around him.  
  
  
"So; what's up?" she asked with a shrug of her shoulders, leaning back against the couch.  
  
  
Vaughn leaned back as well and replied, "Nothing;, really. Just needed to get away from the whole hospital atmosphere."  
  
  
Sydney nodded. "Me; too. I mean, I couldn't be more relieved that Sark and Will are recovering really well, but the environment was sort of grating on my nerves." She yawned suddenly and Vaughn was flustered.  
  
  
"Oh;—are you tired? I can't imagine you've gotten much sleep. I could leave you alone—"  
  
  
"No;, no, I'm all right," Sydney said, waving a hand dismissively.  
  
  
"You;'re sure?"  
  
  
Sydney smiled at his concern. "I;'m fine, Vaughn." She looked down at her hands in her lap, and couldn't help notice that Vaughn was staring at her. She looked up at him and they exchanged small smiles before Vaughn looked away, leaving Sydney to gaze at him for a moment before looking down again.  
  
  
The pair sat in silence for a while.  
  
  
"Actually;, I *am* kind of tired," Sydney confessed.  
  
  
Vaughn stood up. "I;'ll let you rest."  
  
  
"Thanks.;"  
  
  
Vaughn stood there for a moment, staring out one of the windows in the cabin. Sydney raised an eyebrow at this and stood up as well. Vaughn turned to face her, his mouth hovering inches away from hers. Sydney looked into Vaughn's eyes and found that they were filled with desire. She didn't resist when Vaughn cupped her face in his hands and melded his lips to hers.  
  
  
The fantasies that had been plaguing her mind for the past two days didn't surface and instead, Sydney felt a strong wave of guilt where she figured an unexplainable passion would have been. Vaughn pulled back, breathless, and searched Sydney's eyes before leaning in again. Sydney placed her hands on his chest and pushed him back, causing Vaughn's eyes to dart back and forth rapidly, trying to find a reason for why Sydney was rejecting him.  
  
  
Vaughn stepped back and raked a hand through his hair, shaking his head slightly. He started to speak several times before giving up and collapsing back on the couch. Sydney wrung her hands, unsure of exactly how she should handle the situation. She thought of Sark, and realized that she wanted to go back to the hospital and hold him.  
  
  
But, she needed to handle this first. "What; was—I mean—why did you—" she stopped herself, and just went with a simple, "Why;?"  
  
  
"It; just felt right," Vaughn confessed.  
  
  
Sydney went to the far end of the couch and sat down, drawing her legs beneath her. She understood what Vaughn meant, but she wondered why the dreams she had been having didn't translate into the moment she and Vaughn had just shared. She deduced that maybe the dreams *had* developed as a result of the fact that she had unjustly had Vaughn taken away from her.  
  
  
She would probably never know exactly why her fantasies had been just that—fantasies—and that they didn't represent what she actually felt. But, she did know that the only person she wanted to be with was Sark, and that nothing would change that.  
  
  
She stood up and glanced down at Vaughn, who was still mulling over what had just transpired. "I;'m going to go see Sark." Vaughn didn't answer, and Sydney grasped his hand. Vaughn looked up at her and nodded slightly, then Sydney released his hand and headed out of the cabin.  
  
  
As she walked, she wondered if Vaughn had simply never stopped loving her and was planning on finding the right moment to say so, and had been hoping against hope that she felt the same way.  
  
  
She wondered if his heart had ever been with Michelle.  
  
  
  
  
"Hey;," Sydney greeted a groggy Sark. She took a seat next to his bed after planting a lingering kiss on his lips.  
  
  
"Hey;," Sark murmured, reaching for Sydney's hand. "I; think you'll be pleased to know that while you were gone, an assortment of doctors wandered in to say that I'm well enough for us to leave today."  
  
  
Sydney arched an eyebrow. "Really;?"  
  
  
"Yes;," Sark replied, "and; frankly, I'm ready to leave right now, so I'm going to get dressed."  
  
  
Sydney watched in amusement as Sark hoisted himself out of the bed, grabbed his crutches, and hobbled over to a pile of clean clothes that Sydney figured Vaughn must have retrieved for Sark. She grinned when Sark hauled off the hospital gown, revealing his lean, muscular frame.  
  
  
"Nice;," she commented, resorting to harmless banter to prevent her from jumping Sark's bones right at that moment.  
  
  
Sark turned to face Sydney and smirked when her eyes flicked southward from his eyes rather quickly. "Like; what you see?"  
  
  
Sydney looked back up and grinned again. "You; could say that." She pouted and flashed Sark her best puppy dog eyes when he pulled his pants up. She bit her lip and declared, "You;'re cruel."  
  
  
"I; get that a lot."  
  
  
Sydney stifled the laughter that had built up in her throat by clamping down harder on her lip. She stood up and wandered over to Sark who had put on an oxford and was just beginning to button it. She tangled the fingers of one hand in Sark's hair as she pulled his head down for a kiss. Her other hand wandered down Sark's chest, over the bandage from the bullet wound and down to his pants, where Sydney hooked one finger into the waistband to haul Sark closer.  
  
  
She pulled back and stared into Sark's half-lidded gaze. "Let;'s get to the plane."  
  
  
  
  
"There;'s a couch in there," Sydney said, pointing to a door in the back of the cabin as she and Sark entered the plane. Will and Vaughn followed with Vaughn keeping a close eye on Will in case he stumbled with his crutches.  
  
  
Sydney and Sark reached the closed door and Sydney turned to look at Will and Vaughn. Sark went into the part of the cabin that was closed off and proceeded to make himself comfortable on the couch. Sydney watched him for a moment before walking over to Will and checking to see that he was comfortable. Will insisted he was fine, but thanked Sydney for her concern.  
  
  
"Get; some rest," she whispered, then kissed the side of Will's mouth.  
  
  
Will was out like a light in a matter of moments. Sydney tousled his hair, then turned to face Vaughn. He looked rather nervous, but Sydney didn't comment and instead looked at him expectantly.  
  
  
"Look;, I'm sorry about earlier. I just, I don't know, but—I'm sorry. I want you to know that."  
  
  
"Vaughn;, it's okay," Sydney assured him. "Everything;'s fine." Sydney put her arms out to hug him, and he reluctantly stepped into her embrace. Sydney pulled back after a moment or two and smiled. Her smile faded when something suddenly dawned on her.  
  
  
"What;?" Vaughn asked.  
  
  
"I; forgot to tell you, I mean, with everything that happened—" She took a deep breath and sighed. "I; didn't find the page."  
  
  
Vaughn nodded solemnly and Sydney knew what he was thinking—that the risk had been all for nothing. In truth, though, it wasn't, but Sydney couldn't reveal what she knew.  
  
  
"I;'m going to get some rest," Sydney said softly, and left when Vaughn nodded.  
  
  
She walked over to the door, closing it behind her and locking it, so as to prevent any disturbances. Sark was sitting on the couch and he smiled when Sydney walked towards him. He blanched, however, when Sydney straddled his lap and claimed his mouth in a hungry kiss.  
  
  
Sydney—"  
  
  
"Hush.;" She trailed her lips down his neck.  
  
  
"Right.;"  
  
  
Sydney smiled against Sark's skin, then found Sark's mouth again and used her tongue to part his lips. She began to unbutton Sark's shirt and Sark protested a bit before giving in. She pushed the shirt off of his shoulders, then ran the tips of her fingers across Sark's abdomen, making him jump. She felt Sark's hands pushing her shirt up, so she pulled her turtleneck over her head and tossed it somewhere. She left a wet trail down Sark's chest as Sark reached behind her back to unclasp her bra.  
  
  
She stood up after flinging her bra to the floor, and kneeled in front of Sark as she unzipped his pants and dragged them down his legs. She tugged Sark's boxers down as well, then took his hardness in her hands, stroking gently. She looked up to find Sark biting his lip and she suddenly felt rather smug. She leaned forward and took him in her mouth, relishing Sark's futile attempts to hold back his satisfied groans.  
  
  
She looked up at him as she continued her slow torture and saw his expression change upon seeing the fire in her eyes. She pulled back when she saw he was getting close and stood up to remove her jeans and panties. Once she had done so, she climbed back into his lap, positioning herself above him. Before she could lower herself down, though, Sark moved a hand between her legs, slipping two fingers inside and pressing his thumb against her hardened nub.  
  
  
Sydney looked up at him in surprise before her eyes glazed over in pure ecstasy. She bit her lip then buried her face in Sark's neck to muffle a moan. She gasped when Sark added a third finger inside of her and moved his thumb in a dizzying circular motion.  
  
  
She muffled a sharp cry and another moan in Sark's neck. Sark used his other hand to lift Sydney's head up to make her look at him when he felt her body begin to tremble. Sydney's breath hitched in her throat and Sark watched as the orgasm spilled into her eyes, then brought her mouth to his when he saw that she was about to scream.  
  
  
Sark wrapped his free arm around Sydney's shaking form as he gently rode out her tremors. Sydney moved so that her forehead rested against Sark's shoulder as she attempted to breathe normally. When Sark finally moved his hand away, Sydney lifted herself up slightly on legs that might as well have been Jell-O, and sank herself down on Sark.  
  
  
Sark groaned slightly when Sydney started to move. He tweaked one of her nipples, making her find his mouth with hers so she could stifle a moan. Sydney sped up the pace slightly, and heard Sark attempt to suppress a moan. She arched her back when Sark began to add his own energy, thrusting himself straight to her core. He was closer than he thought, so he pressed his thumb against Sydney's nub and released himself into her when he felt her begin to quake around him.  
  
  
Her breathing labored, Sydney collapsed against Sark, sighing softly when Sark held her close to him. She closed her eyes against a sudden rush of tears, and took several shuddering breaths. Sark was running his fingers up and down her spine as he planted kisses in her hair.  
  
  
"Are; you all right?" he whispered, beginning to stroke her hair.  
  
  
Sydney nodded and whispered, "I; love you."  
  
  
"I; love you, too."  
  
  
Finally, Sydney worked up the strength to stand, and she gathered up her clothes so she could get dressed. Sark stood up as well and managed to pull up his pants and button his shirt and only wince once. Sydney heard it, and flew over to him half-dressed, checking to see if he was all right. He reassured her with a kiss, and Sydney finished getting dressed.  
  
  
Once they were both decent, they sat back down on the couch, Sark wrapping his arms around Sydney, who rested her head on his shoulder and nuzzled his neck with her nose. Sark kissed her hair and rested his chin atop her head. Sydney sighed somewhat uncomfortably, prompting Sark to ask her what was wrong.  
  
  
"I;'m just thinking about what's going to happen when we get back," she said, shaking her head slightly and sighing again.  
  
  
"What; do you mean?"  
  
  
"Kendall;," Sydney said simply.  
  
  
Sark grunted in response. "I;'m dreading it, too, but there's nothing that we can do, unless—"  
  
  
"Unless; what?" Sydney interrupted, suddenly defensive and not sure why.  
  
  
"Unless; you found the page," Sark finished.  
  
  
_That's why,_ Sydney thought, stiffening. "I; didn't find it."  
  
  
"Great;," Sark muttered.  
  
  
"Yeah;," Sydney murmured, "so; it was all for nothing." Sark nodded. "In; any case, we should get some sleep, so we can be prepared to be chewed out."  
  
  
"Mhm;," Sark mumbled, resting his cheek against Sydney's hair.  
  
  
"'Night," Sydney said, yawning.  
  
  
Sark tilted his head and kissed the tip of Sydney's nose. She smiled and he smiled back. "'Night."  
  
  
  
  
Hours later, the four arrived in Los Angeles. Vaughn went to retrieve Sydney and Sark when the plane landed. He knocked on the door, then tried to turn the handle when there was no answer.  
  
  
"Guys;?"  
  
  
In the room, Sydney and Sark were rousing themselves from sleep. Sometime during the flight, Sydney had sought out Sark's lap as a makeshift pillow. She sat up too quickly, and the muscles in her back and limbs made certain she paid for it. She thought she heard Vaughn's voice, and mumbled that she and Sark would be out in a minute.  
  
  
She stood up and patted Sark's cheek to wake him up, then rubbed the back of her neck to work out the kink in it. She stretched before making her way over to the locked door, cursing herself for not choosing a more comfortable position in which to sleep.  
  
  
She groaned and unlocked the door, then opened it and peered into the cabin. Vaughn was gathering his luggage and Will was hobbling on his crutches, attempting to grab his suitcase. Vaughn clapped Will on the shoulder and took his suitcase from him. Will didn't protest, and instead simply thanked him.  
  
  
The corner of Sydney's mouth turned up in a smile at Vaughn's thoughtfulness. She gasped when she felt Sark's arms lock around her waist. She spun around and pursed her lips angrily.  
  
  
"Why; aren't you using your crutches?"  
  
  
Sark frowned. "Relax.; I'm just seeing if I can walk without them." He kissed her forehead.  
  
  
"Uh; huh."  
  
  
Sark studied Sydney's eyes for a moment, then decided he wasn't going to win the battle because he knew Sydney would hound him until he withered under her scrutiny. He nodded at her and limped over to his crutches which were laying by the couch. He hobbled back over to Sydney on the crutches, and she smiled at him approvingly before laying a gentle kiss on his lips.  
  
  
"'Uh huh,'" Sark mocked, then grinned when Sydney silenced him with another kiss. He leaned close to whisper in her ear, "Love; you."  
  
  
Sydney leaned close as well, her lips dancing on Sark's earlobe. "Love; you, too." She looked over her shoulder at Will and Vaughn who were making their way off the plane. She looked back at Sark and asked, "Where;'s your bag?"  
  
  
Sark raised an eyebrow at her. "Why; do you ask?"  
  
  
"So; I can carry it."  
  
  
Sark opened his mouth to protest, but decided against it. He had lost the crutch battle and he knew he wasn't going to win the suitcase battle. He gave her a lop-sided smile and pointed to one of the overhead compartments. Sydney went to the compartment Sark had pointed to and heaved Sark's suitcase onto one of the seats. She got her suitcase next, and rolled it down the narrow aisle after she had picked up Sark's suitcase.  
  
  
The cool night air hit Sydney like a ton of bricks as she stepped off the plane. Sark was right behind her, and together they caught up with Will and Vaughn and made their way into the joint task-force building. Kendall was waiting in the center of the rotunda with his arms folded across his chest. Jack stood next to him, stoic as ever.  
  
  
Kendall's mouth turned up in the tiniest of smiles. "Welcome; home." Sydney swallowed hard, confused with Kendall's display towards all of them. "Vaughn; has already briefed me on the outcome of the mission, so you're all free to go home." He bid them adieu and left the rotunda.  
  
  
Sydney and Sark were mindful not to display any sort of affection in front of Jack as Sydney gave Sark his suitcase and told him she'd see him tomorrow. Everyone left except for Sydney, who stood before her father waiting for him to reprimand her for leaving in the middle of the night. She managed to hold her father's gaze for a few moments before growing nervous and quickly averting her gaze to the floor.  
  
  
Jack stepped forward and looked at her for a moment before laying a hand on her shoulder. Sydney looked up at her father with questioning eyes, and Jack's only response was a slight smile. That action only made Sydney more conflicted, but she remained silent. Jack gave her shoulder a brief squeeze, then left her standing in the middle of the rotunda, alone.  
  
  
  
  
About fifteen minutes later, Sydney was turning the key in the lock of her father's apartment door. She let out a sigh as she walked to her room, relieved to finally be back in Los Angeles and also relieved that Kendall hadn't admonished them for the mission going awry.  
  
  
She set down her suitcase, kicked off her shoes, and collapsed on the bed. A familiar beeping sound disturbed her just when she was about to fall asleep, and she cursed under her breath, then retrieved her mother's earrings from her suitcase.  
  
  
She listened to the message as she put her shoes back on and dug through her suitcase for the page. She rolled up one of her sleeves and wrapped the page around her arm, then tugged the sleeve back down. She found the pair of jeans that had the phone number her mother had given her and stuffed the paper in her back pocket, just in case she needed it.  
  
  
She shoved the earrings back into her suitcase and went out into the hall. She made a quick trip to the kitchen to see if, by a stroke of luck, there was some spare change lying around. There was a small glass bowl on the counter with a variety of coins in it. Sydney plucked from it a couple of quarters which she then slipped into her pocket.  
  
  
After taking a quick glance around the apartment for any signs that her father may be watching her, she left and went to her car. She opened the door of her Prius and got inside. As she closed the door and started the engine, she realized she was nervous. If all went well, and she gathered up the courage to find out exactly what was going on, she would have a wealth of knowledge that she wasn't sure she was comfortable having. In any case, though, she needed and wanted to know everything her mother knew so that she could piece everything together.  
  
  
With that in mind, she took off for the pier.  
  
  
**A/N:** Yay. The S/V thing is resolved more or less. Syd's gonna find out stuff from her mom. Oh yeah.. and there was smut. Can't forget the smut. Okay, so..  
  
Opinions on the smut (take your pick;x):  
A) It was too smutty.  
B) It wasn't too smutty.  
C) There was smut?  
D) Dude? It was Sarkney smut and the only thing that matters isn't the degree of smuttiness but the fact that THERE SHOULD BE MORE OF IT JUST BECAUSE.  
  
Hee. Personally, I'd go with D;x  
  
So anyways, the next chapter should totally rock, because not only will Sydney find out EVERYTHING, but there might be a new plot twist (still debating, though..), and we're one step closer to Syd going back and yadayada.  
  
*hugs for all my loyal readers* Love you guys! Oh.. and I must say.. I'm pretty damn proud to have "turned;" some of you;)  
  
Oh, for **Linz**.. I think you *did* have a role in making me accepting of the S/V 'ship. I think it might have been because you were open to other 'ships and I was like, "Hmm..; maybe I should try and find some good points in Vaughn and try to like him and maybe not hate the S/V thing so much." On a side note, when do you start school usually? I've always started on a Wednesday, but this year they're making us go on Tuesday (dumbasses) because they're giving us the Wednesday before Thanksgiving off. It's stupid.  
  
I still have six books to read and exactly two weeks to do it. I'm screwed with a capital "S.;" Damn senior year.. my senior portraits came out lovely, though! I shouldn't have worried so much, it was actually kinda fun.  
  
Anyways, see you guys soon with the mega chappy. Oh wait, one more thing. For **Emily**, I'm working on 'F.P.' Well.. sorta.. I'm gonna finish it, though, hopefully before school starts.  
  
~E


	32. Unveil

**Thirty-Two  
  
Unveil  
  
  
  
**

Hands shaking, Sydney made her best attempt to control her car as she drove to the pier where her mother was waiting. She knew this would be the night that she found out exactly what had happened, along with, she assumed, the plan to use The Telling and go back for whatever reason her mother was going to give her.  
  
  
She finally arrived, and as she was parking her car, she cast a glance towards the pier. Contrary to the first time they had talked on the pier, her mother had gotten there before she had. Sydney got out and walked along the planks towards her mother.  
  
  
Her shoes clunked noisily on the wood, disturbing the silence and sending chills down Sydney's spine. She finally reached her mother and stood with her hands on the railing. She darted a glance at her mother and found her observing her with a sad frown. Sighing, Sydney rolled up the sleeve on her shirt and unwrapped the page from around her arm. With one last glance at it, she turned it over to her mother, who took it from her graciously and read it over.  
  
  
Sydney watched as her mother read the text, and felt a shiver run down her spine at the twinkle in her mother's eye. When Irina had finished reading, she nodded to herself before glancing at her daughter for a brief instant, then directing her gaze to the ocean before them.  
  
  
"What; then?" Sydney asked. "I; mean, you said we would have to use The Telling to go back, but we don't even have it in our possession."  
  
  
"We;'ll have access to it soon enough," Irina assured her.  
  
  
"How;?" Sydney spat incredulously.  
  
  
"Have; faith, Sydney," Irina answered, her gaze unwavering on the dark navy water.  
  
  
"'Faith,'" Sydney repeated, scoffing as she did so. "Look;, can you at least give me something to work with as far as *why* we have to go back?"  
  
  
Irina turned towards Sydney and grasped her shoulders. Sydney was startled for a moment, but dismissed the feeling immediately, as she sensed that she was close to hearing the truth about what was going on.  
  
  
"I; can explain it to you," Irina began, "but; you have to let me explain it and not ask questions. I can already guess how you will react to a great deal of what I'm going to tell you, which is going to make this incredibly difficult. But, if you at least let me explain everything, this could go rather smoothly." She looked into her daughter's eyes which were cold and closed off, but lit up by the moonlight.  
  
  
Sydney looked down at her feet and her mother immediately lifted her chin up so she could meet her gaze. Swallowing hard and glancing down briefly once again, Sydney replied, "Okay.; I won't ask any questions." Irina was about to turn back to the water when Sydney spoke again, "Except; for this one—what the hell is this thing in my body?"  
  
  
"The; Di Regno heart," Irina answered without missing a beat. Sydney opened her mouth in an attempt to ask a jumble of questions, but clamped it shut again before she could speak. Irina tucked a few strands of her daughter's hair behind her ear, pleasantly surprised at the calming effect it had on Sydney, then turned back to the water. "You; have to go back so that it won't be an issue."  
  
  
"Wait; a minute," Sydney interjected, ignoring for the moment her mother's request, "why; can't I just have it surgically removed?"  
  
  
"It; has a cord of sorts connected to your heart. If that cord is removed or broken, your heart will stop." Irina wet her lips with her tongue. "In; effect, the Di Regno device is controlling your heart."  
  
  
Sydney took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She wasn't expecting her mother to give her the reason to go back as the only choice she had if she wished to live. She bit her lip a moment, thinking. "Why; can't I just live with it?"  
  
  
Irina raised an eyebrow at her. "You; *want* to? There's a huge risk, Sydney. If it gets jostled too much, the cord could snap and you'll be dead."  
  
  
"Fine;, then," Sydney said with a slight shake of her head. "So; exactly who did this to me? Was it Sloane?"  
  
  
"Yes;," Irina said, nodding. "He; wanted to exact revenge on you for everything you've done that has caused him to fail in one respect or another."  
  
  
"He; couldn't have just killed me?"  
  
  
Irina shook her head. "He; wanted to make you suffer, Sydney. To him, this would be the same as strapping you to a chair and slowly draining the life from you using whatever torture techniques he could devise."  
  
  
"I;'d rather go that way," Sydney admitted. "Dealing; with this means that just about anything could happen and I could be dead before I realize what's going on."  
  
  
"He; wanted you to live in fear," Irina said, nodding.  
  
  
Sydney looked at her mother to find her staring back at her. They held one another's gazes for a moment before Sydney said, "I; want to know how you got this information. I want to know who you were working with who managed to find these things out. I mean, whoever it was had to have—"  
  
  
Sydney was cut off abruptly by a voice behind her, accompanied by footsteps that were drawing closer. Sydney didn't miss the smile that fleetingly appeared on her mother's face as the person declared, "Irina;, I got here as fast as I could."  
  
  
Sark walked up to both Sydney and Irina and stood between them, casually slipping his hands into his pockets. Sydney felt her blood turn to ice as she looked up into Sark's eyes and recalled their conversation at her "welcome; home" party.  
  
  
_ "How; exactly did you become an employee here, though? Were you offered immunity for your cooperation?"  
  
  
"Better; than that. In exchange for my continued assistance, any charges that would have been filed against me were completely dropped." Sydney's eyes widened and Sark grinned. "It;'s like I'm starting with a clean slate."  
  
  
"I;'m floored—" Sydney began, and Sark interrupted her.  
  
  
"Thank; you."  
  
  
"—by how easily this institution can be fooled."  
  
  
Sark tilted his head to one side. "Care; to elaborate?"  
  
  
"Sark;, it's obvious there is more to you than meets the eye. On the surface, you might seem as if you can be molded into an upstanding citizen. You just have that—look. On the inside, it's clear that you're very skilled at deception. The CIA can believe what it wants. It can believe what's on the surface. As for me, I know that you're planning something. I know that you will deceive us. I don't know how or when, but I know that you will."  
  
_  
She had been right all along. Sark *had* been planning something. She felt sick for trusting him, for believing that what was on the surface could be true, and that he wasn't involved in something outside of the CIA.  
  
  
"I; trusted you," she whispered, taking a step back. "You; led me to believe that you had been reformed somehow, that you had changed and that you were working for the CIA with no strings attached. And now, now I find out that you knew about this."  
  
  
"Sydney;, you don't understand—" Sark started, taking a step towards her.  
  
  
"What; I understand is that whatever information you had, you not only obtained from working with my mother, you obtained it from *Sloane* which just makes this—"  
  
  
"Sydney;—"  
  
  
"DON;'T TRY TO EXPLAIN!" Sydney exploded. "I;'ve been lied to my entire life, and this situation clearly isn't any different."  
  
  
Sark tried again. "Sydney;, would you just—"  
  
  
"When; were you planning on telling me?" Sydney demanded, interrupting him again. "Were; you just going to hope to slip under the radar and act like you had nothing to do with this?"  
  
  
"SYDNEY;!" Irina yelled, and Sydney, taken aback a bit, quieted down. "Sark; found out when you did."  
  
  
Sydney stared at her mother, disbelieving, and demanded, "What; do you mean?"  
  
  
"When; I contacted you for the first time that night, I contacted Sark as well," Irina explained. "Both; of you had the same reactions, and rightfully so." She looked at Sydney who was shaking as she clenched and unclenched her fists by her sides.  
  
  
"Why; didn't you tell me that he knew?" Sydney asked in a low whisper, her voice wobbly and gruff.  
  
  
"Considering; the way you acted when I started talking to you about everything, throwing Sark into the mix wouldn't have helped you in the least." Irina sighed a bit and added, "Telling; you that Sark knew probably would have only succeeded in throwing a wrench into what you two have together."  
  
  
Sydney and Sark exchanged brief glances and Irina simply smiled to herself and turned back to the water. Sydney turned and looked out at over the water as well. She knew her mother was right, but it didn't help the frustration she felt from the fact that Sark had known when she had. Sark sighed a bit and stood next to Sydney, his arm brushing hers. Sydney glanced down at the railing, which both her and Sark's hands were gripping. She moved her hand over so that it brushed against Sark's hand.  
  
  
Sark placed his hand over Sydney's and smiled a bit when Sydney shifted her hand to turn it palm up so that their fingers could interlock. Things were okay for the moment at least. They shared another brief glance, then looked at Irina.  
  
  
"So; what exactly is the plan?" Sydney asked. "What; are the details?"  
  
  
"You;'ll return to your apartment right after you've killed your friend's double," Irina explained. Sark stiffened slightly, and Sydney squeezed his hand. "Once; you're there, you'll need to get to a phone, call Kendall, and tell him to send a team. While you're waiting for the team, you'll need to be sure you stay alert and keep a weapon handy in case Sloane arrives before the team does."  
  
  
"Okay;, so they'll take Will to the hospital and do whatever needs to be done to my apartment," Sydney said. "Then; what? Sark will still be in the cell."  
  
  
"That;'s the difficult part," Irina said with a slight shake of her head. "To; be honest, I don't exactly have the details worked out, but even when a plan is made, we have to be extremely careful."  
  
  
"Yeah;," Sydney said quietly, "obviously.;"  
  
  
The three were silent for a while, but Sydney's mind was busy attempting to come up with ideas for dealing with Vaughn. When she went back, she would still be dating him. She needed to devise a plan to break up with him that wouldn't hurt him more than it hurt her.  
  
  
She knew it was going to be difficult, given the way Vaughn felt about her, and the way their relationship had been going. They were on the right track to deepening their relationship and abruptly ending it would undoubtedly hurt Vaughn more than Sydney could imagine. Plus, the fact that she would be causing Vaughn such pain would hurt her deeply as well. She cared about Vaughn a great deal and she knew he didn't deserve to be tossed out like the day's garbage.  
  
  
But, since she was with Sark, and since she had no other way to fix her situation, it would have to be done. It just simply churned her stomach to think about it.  
  
  
"I;'ll have to break up with Vaughn," she blurted suddenly. She needed to inform both her mother and Sark because that step would inevitably have to be completed before Sark was extracted. She swallowed hard and waited for some kind of acknowledgment as she deliberately avoided looking at Sark.  
  
  
Sydney had a slew of inner demons to deal with since she had been upset about having Vaughn taken away from her and had formed fantasies about him when she was with Sark. She would be able to put those fantasies into motion now that she was going to be with him when she went back.  
  
  
Finally Irina spoke—a simple "Yes;, I know"—then she was silent again. Sark didn't speak, only squeezed Sydney's hand and raked his fingers through his hair.  
  
  
"Mom;," Sydney began, after several minutes had gone by without any dialogue, "the; last two times we met, I told you I knew that you had to have been working with someone in the CIA who would have access to the information that you relayed to me." Irina's eyes darted to the railing for a brief second, then settled on the water once again. "Who; was it, Mom?"  
  
  
Irina looked towards Sydney and locked eyes with her. "You; really want to know?"  
  
  
"Yes;, I think that—"  
  
  
"You; think that knowing," Irina continued, "will; give you some sort of comfort, some sort of closure?"  
  
  
Sydney nodded wordlessly, keeping her gaze locked on her mother's.  
  
  
"You;'re going to wish I had never told you."  
  
  
"Somehow; I doubt that," Sydney countered. "So; tell me."  
  
  
Pursing her lips and lifting her chin slightly, she said, "Your; father."  
  
  
Sydney nodded and admitted, "I; can't say I'm surprised." She turned around and leaned against the rail, her legs stretched out in front of her.  
  
  
Irina followed suit and crossed her arms over her chest. She regarded her daughter with her eyebrows raised. "I; figured your reaction would be a lot different than this."  
  
  
"Now; that I think about it," Sydney started, ignoring her mother's statement, "it; makes perfect sense. He must have forged a bond with Sloane and been scheming behind his back, using whatever information he could to find out what had happened to me." She looked at her mother to see if she would confirm this theory. Irina nodded and Sydney asked, "I; don't understand why he couldn't have told me. Why did he tell you about it? Why didn't *he* just tell me?"  
  
  
Irina narrowed her eyes and Sydney felt bad for what she had said. "Your; father contacted me first. He told me that you had disappeared, and I suggested to him that it was most likely Sloane who was responsible because of Rambaldi's prophecy. I gave him a plan for how he should proceed. He followed through, giving me frequent updates on how Sloane was responding to the phony plan to team up."  
  
  
"So; all of this was your idea, then?" Sydney said quietly, unable to hold her mother's gaze and looking down at her shoes.  
  
  
"Yes.;"  
  
  
Sark combed his fingers through Sydney's hair, and jumped a little when she turned to him and demanded, "Did; you know?"  
  
  
He shook his head, and whispered, "Not; until now."  
  
  
"I; should get going," Irina declared. "I;'ll contact you both when I iron out more of the details." She started to leave when Sydney stopped her.  
  
  
"How; will we gain access to The Telling?"  
  
  
"I; have to talk to your father," Irina replied. "His; 'partnership' with Sloane should still be in good standing."  
  
  
"Good;," Sydney said.  
  
  
Irina nodded and leaned forward to kiss Sydney's forehead. After tucking a few strands of Sydney's hair behind her ear, Irina walked off.  
  
  
Once Sydney and Sark were alone, Sark began to pace. Sydney raised an eyebrow at his behavior and asked what was wrong.  
  
  
"When; you go back, you'll be with Vaughn."  
  
  
Sydney's stomach dropped into her toes. She was nervous about where this conversation was headed. "Yeah.;"  
  
  
Sark scuffed his shoe. "How; difficult do you think it will be toto end thingswith him?" He looked up at Sydney to find her eyes glistening. "What;?"  
  
  
Sydney blinked, sending a stream of silent tears down her cheek. "Nothing.; I'm sorry, it's just that I have no idea how to break up with him without ruining his life."  
  
  
"I; understand."  
  
  
"No;," Sydney murmured. "No;, you don't. You don't know what we went through. You have no idea."  
  
  
"Look;, Sydney, I understand what you're saying. I just need to know that you're going to be able to end the relationship with him so that you and I can be together. I just need to know that that is what is going to happen."  
  
  
Sydney stared at Sark as he paced more, his eyes focused on the ground. She walked over to him and put her hands on his chest. "I; love you," she whispered, "and; I'll figure something out. You don't have to worry. We *will* be together."  
  
  
Sark nodded and framed Sydney's face with his hands as he captured her lips with his. Sydney leaned into him, her body relaxing against his. Sark lowered his hands down and placed them on Sydney's hips. Sydney slipped her tongue into Sark's mouth, massaging his tongue with hers. Her hands roamed his chest, and she had to force herself not to go any farther.  
  
  
Sark finally pulled back and leaned his forehead against Sydney's, breathing heavily. "Promise; me one thing."  
  
  
"Of; course," Sydney agreed, breathing hard as well.  
  
  
"I; know that it's going to take more than one simple conversation with Vaughn to end things," Sark admitted. "That;, and the simple fact that Irina is still working on the plan to get me out of CIA custody."  
  
  
Sydney searched Sark's eyes and sighed a bit. "I; know that. So what do you want me to promise you?"  
  
  
"Just; promise me that no matter what happens with Vaughn—whatever you end up having to do—just don't tell me about it."  
  
  
Sydney raised an eyebrow. "What; are you—"  
  
  
"Promise; me," Sark pleaded. "Promise; me."  
  
  
Sydney put her hands on the sides of Sark's face and nodded slowly. "I; promise."  
  
  
"Thank; you." Sark kissed her then announced that he needed to get going. Sydney agreed, somewhat reluctantly, and Sark left. Sydney watched him walk away, a bit confused by what he had said. She was simply going to break up with Vaughn—that was all there was to it.  
  
  
Then it hit her.  
  
  
Sark was talking about what she might have to do before she broke up with him. She would have to play the girlfriend role until she got to a place where she could break up with Vaughn and not have it be too sudden. There were a number of things she could use when she confronted Vaughn about their relationship. Still though, the simple fact that Vaughn had no idea why she was breaking up with him—the *real* reason—made her sick.  
  
  
She sighed heavily and ran her hands through her hair. Casting a glance towards the water, she started walking back to her car, intending to pay a visit to Will.  
  
  
**A/N:** g Everything's out in the open, YAY. For those of you who might have formed guesses about everything, were you close? Did anyone consider the Di Regno heart? Did anyone consider Jack as Irina's contact?  
  
Anyways, I'm just *so* relieved to have all of this out there. I can really get going with what I need to do, and hopefully be able to wrap this up in a few chapters or so.  
  
I have to finish 'F.P.,' too. Hmm.. I'll definitely have to find time to work on it eventually (thanks for the motivation e-mail, **Emily**;) ). Also, I apologize for the long-ass wait on this, but I hope it was worth it;)  
  
Oh, and this has nothing to do with anything, but did you guys see the new promo pics? David Anders is gorgeous. *sigh* Oh, and I have the MV/MG pic on my desktop. Hee. I'm going to be the biggest V/L shipper when the new season starts;) *ducks whatever **Linz** is throwing at me* ;x  
  
See you soon with the next chapter,  
~E


	33. Visit

**Thirty-Three  
  
Visit  
  
  
  
**

Sydney unlocked the door to her and Will's apartment, and grinned when she spotted Will on the couch with his legs propped up on the coffee table. "Hey;," she greeted him, closing the door and walking over to him.  
  
  
"Hey;," Will said, his eyes shining. "Are; you finally back home?"  
  
  
"Not; yet," Sydney sighed, settling in next to Will.  
  
  
"No;?"  
  
  
"No.;"  
  
  
"How; much longer?"  
  
  
"Not; too long," Sydney replied with a yawn, leaning her head on Will's shoulder. "How;'s your leg?"  
  
  
"Better;," Will answered. "I; tried to walk without the crutches for a bit, though, and instantly regretted it."  
  
  
"Oh; Will," Sydney murmured, swatting his chest. Will chuckled.  
  
  
"So; you just stopped by to check on me?" he asked.  
  
  
"Yeah.;"  
  
  
"Ah.;"  
  
  
Silence.  
  
  
"Syd;, what's wrong?" Will asked, tilting his head down to peer into Sydney's eyes.  
  
  
"Nothing;," Sydney said, all too quickly, and Will stared at her for a few moments. "Seriously;," Sydney said, a grin appearing on her face. Will was still unconvinced, so Sydney said softly, "I;'m fine, Will."  
  
  
Will nodded and looked away from her to study the coffee table. Sydney tapped the edge of his nose with her index finger and they both shared a chuckle.  
  
  
"So; how are things working out with you staying with Jack?"  
  
  
Sydney shrugged and said, "Fine;, I guess. I think we had one small argument and after that we've been getting along pretty well." _Especially since I've probably spent more time talking with my mother in the middle of the night than at the apartment._ She bit her tongue.  
  
  
"That;'s great," Will told her. "It;'s good that you're getting along."  
  
  
"Yeah;, I think so."  
  
  
Will grabbed his crutches and started to stand up. "I;'ll be right back."  
  
  
Sydney stood up as well. "Wait;, wait, whatever you need, I can get it for you."  
  
  
"Uh;, I just have to—"  
  
  
"Will;, whatever it is—"  
  
  
"Syd;, Syd," Will started, trying to explain, "I; just have to use the bathroom." He grinned when Sydney blushed and ducked her head.  
  
  
"You; could have just told me that," Sydney laughed, sitting back down on the couch.  
  
  
"I; tried! You wouldn't let me," Will mock protested. "Anyway;, I'll be right back."  
  
  
Sydney nodded and watched Will walk away from her. She felt her stomach tighten into a knot as she thought about the plan to go back. She knew she would be seeing Will nearly dead in the bathtub for a second time after she called Kendall to send a team. She wasn't looking forward to it.  
  
  
She thought about what would happen later, especially since Vaughn was supposed to come over so that they could have their three days together in Santa Barbara. She wondered how he would react when he got the rude awakening that they weren't going to be going anywhere except the hospital.  
  
  
She leaned back against the couch, arms behind her head, and looked up at the ceiling. She wished that there was a way to live with the Di Regno heart inside of her that didn't involve time travel and reliving some of the worst moments of her life.  
  
  
She didn't notice that Will had come back until he plopped down on the couch next to her, nearly making her leap out of her skin. "Jesus;," she mumbled.  
  
  
Will shot her a crooked grin, then leaned back as Sydney had and folded his arms behind his head. The two looked up at the cream-colored ceiling for awhile, neither one speaking. Finally, Will turned his head and leaned close to Sydney as he whispered conspiratorially, "What; are we supposed to be looking at?"  
  
  
Sydney simply smiled and asked, "Can; you honestly say that you're looking at the ceiling?"  
  
  
Will looked at Sydney for a moment before following her eyes back up to the ceiling. He looked back at her and cocked an eyebrow at her unwavering upwards gaze. "What; do you mean?"  
  
  
"It;'s not so much that I'm looking *at* the ceiling," Sydney explained, "it;'s more like looking past it."  
  
  
"Hm;," Will murmured, and looked up again. He began to see what Sydney was talking about, but wondered what she was thinking as she continued to stare skyward. "Syd;?"  
  
  
"Yeah;?"  
  
  
Will frowned a bit when she chose not to look at him and reached a hand to her chin to gently turn her head towards him. "I; think I've known you long enough to the point of where I can tell something isn't right." Sydney's eyes flicked downwards. "Tell; me the truth. Tell me what's on your mind."  
  
  
Sydney sighed softly and said, "I; was actually thinking about the mission."  
  
  
"Oh;," Will mumbled, looking down. He felt Sydney's eyes on him, so he asked, "Any; aspect in particular?"  
  
  
"You; and Sark."  
  
  
Will nodded slowly, then ran a hand through his hair before dropping both hands in his lap. Sydney looked at him for a bit longer before resting her head on his shoulder. She knew she couldn't tell him what she was really thinking about—seeing him nearly dead for a second time in the bathtub—but she wished she could.  
  
  
She wanted to be honest with him.  
  
  
Instead, she stifled a yawn and was genuinely surprised at how tired she was as she closed her eyes. Will had moved his arm so that it was lying across the back of the couch, bent at the elbow, as Will stroked his fingers through Sydney's chestnut locks.  
  
  
  
  
A couple of hours later, Sydney awoke to find Will sound asleep on the couch, his legs draped across her lap. One corner of her mouth turned up in a smile, and she stood up as carefully as she could. She unfolded the blanket that was lying across the top of the couch and placed it over Will, tucking it under his chin. He stirred and reached a hand out from under the blanket to grasp Sydney's hand.  
  
  
Sydney knelt down and smiled at Will's half-lidded gaze and drowsy, "Hey.;"  
  
  
"Hey.;"  
  
  
Will used his free hand to cover a yawn and asked, "What; time is it?"  
  
  
Sydney tilted her head to one side and whispered, "Bedtime.;"  
  
  
Will narrowed his eyes at her for a brief moment before a sleepy grin stole over his features. "Good; enough."  
  
  
"I; thought so," Sydney said with a smile, her eyes sparkling. "I; have to go." She started to stand up and laughed as Will kept a tight grip on her hand. "I;'ll see you tomorrow."  
  
  
"Yeah;?"  
  
  
Sydney felt her throat tighten a bit as she murmured, "Yeah.;"  
  
  
"Okay;," Will said, yawning again, and letting go of Sydney's hand. Sydney was a bit uncomfortable then, suddenly not knowing what to do with her hand since Will had released it from his. She ran a hand through Will's hair then affectionately tapped the tip of Will's nose. Will smiled at that and Sydney smiled back as tears clogged her throat.  
  
  
She walked slowly to the door, thinking more and more about what she would be seeing when she went back. In her heart, she knew Will would be fine. But, after seeing him the first time in the bathtub nearly dead, then seeing him two years later fully healed were two very different things. She was uncertain about how she would react to Will's recovery and how she would deal with whatever Will had to undergo to get better. She wouldn't have the luxury of fast-forwarding to healthy, happy Will she had always known.  
  
  
There was also the added fear of whether or not he would actually survive. Irina had stressed that changing one small aspect would alter other things as well. There was a chance that Will might not survive because of the team getting there too late, or perhaps any other small, seemingly trivial detail.  
  
  
Wiping tears off her cheek, Sydney reached for the door handle and stopped short when she heard Will's voice behind her.  
  
  
"You; know, you don't have to worry about me, Syd."  
  
  
Sydney didn't turn around to look at him as she was afraid of having to explain her tears. Praying her voice didn't fail her, she said, "Of; course I do."  
  
  
"Why;?"  
  
  
"Because; I want to, and because I care about you, and because I love you, and no matter what, I am determined to go before you do." Will erupted in laughter behind her, and Sydney felt her cheeks growing warm. "I;'m serious, you know," she said, turning around to face him and trying desperately to keep a straight face.  
  
  
Will grinned as he said, "I;'d hold you to that, but everyone knows women live longer than men, so I think I'm out of luck."  
  
  
Sydney scoffed and shook her head as she muttered, "Damn; scientific research." Will laughed again and Sydney joined in. Once they were able to contain themselves, Sydney said, "I; really need to go get going."  
  
  
"All; right," Will ceded, throwing up his hands. He smiled when Sydney did, then said softly, "'Night, Syd."  
  
  
"'Night, Will," Sydney replied, and their eyes locked for a couple of seconds before Sydney went out the door.  
  
  
Stepping out in the cold night air, Sydney crossed her arms over her chest, wishing she had brought a jacket. She kept her head down, eyes focused on the ground in front of her as she walked to her car. The wind whipped her hair in front of her face, obscuring her vision, and she unfolded her arms to tuck the strands behind her ears.  
  
  
She reached into her jeans pocket to fish out her keys only to drop them on the ground seconds later. Muttering, she picked them up, and it was then that she realized her hands were shaking. Swallowing hard, she attempted to unlock her car door. Hindered by the darkness and her unsteady hands, she was finding it extremely difficult to locate the keyhole.  
  
  
"Jesus; Christ," she mumbled angrily, and jumped about a foot in the air when she heard a voice near her.  
  
  
"Struggling;, are we?" It was Sark.  
  
  
Looking up, Sydney grouched, "Apparently.;"  
  
  
Smirking, Sark walked over to her—limped, really—and shined the small light from his keychain on the door. He took Sydney's keys from her and unlocked the door, handed her back her keys and opened the door for her. He looked at Sydney who was blushing a bit and scowling, and grinned at her.  
  
  
"Thanks.;"  
  
  
"Of; course."  
  
  
Sydney smirked and said, "I; feel like I should be tipping you or something."  
  
  
"Really;? Well, in that case—"  
  
  
He was cut off because Sydney had grabbed his shirt to haul him closer to her as she attacked his lips. His mouth opened under hers and Sydney slipped her tongue inside, exploring. She took a step back and leaned against the passenger side door, pulling Sark against her.  
  
  
She felt Sark's hands on her hips and pulled back before Sark could act on his obvious plans. She leaned in, mouth hot on Sark's ear, and whispered, "Did; that suffice?"  
  
  
Sark chuckled lightly and Sydney shivered, his breath hot on her neck. "Not; nearly enough." He shifted slightly, turned his head so that he was looking into her eyes. "Come; with me."  
  
  
Sydney searched his eyes as she asked, "Where;?"  
  
  
"My; apartment." Sydney nodded and Sark grabbed her hand, barely leaving her enough time to close and lock her door.  
  
  
Sark opened the passenger's side door and waited until Sydney climbed in before shutting it. He then walked over to the driver's side door and got in as well. He started the engine and began to drive. Sydney looked over at him, studying his face, then looked down and watched him change gears every now and then. She looked back up at him and was surprised to find him glancing in her direction.  
  
  
"Hi;," she said softly.  
  
  
Smiling, Sark turned his attention back to the road in front of him and tossed the same greeting back at her, "Hi.;"  
  
  
"Do; you ever—" Sydney stopped herself and cleared her throat, turning away from Sark who had turned to look at her. She tried again. "Do; you everthink about it?"  
  
  
Sark raised an eyebrow. "Going; back, you mean?" Sydney nodded. "Yes.;"  
  
  
"Do; you see it working?"  
  
  
"Do; I see what working?"  
  
  
"Everything;," Sydney sighed, staring down at her hands folded in her lap.  
  
  
"I; suppose," Sark replied, and Sydney swallowed.  
  
  
"What; does that mean?"  
  
  
By now they had arrived at Sark's apartment and Sark was parking his car. He killed the engine and placed his hands on his knees, the keys jangling and filling up the awkward silence.  
  
  
"I; asked you a question," Sydney reminded him, her tone condescending.  
  
  
"And; I gave you an answer," Sark shot back. "What; more do you want?"  
  
  
Sydney bit back an angry retort and instead replied, "I; just want to know what you meant by what you said."  
  
  
"Sydney;," Sark began, shaking his head, "I; think you know as well as I do that we won't be together when we go back. I'll probably be executed under suspicion of having something to do with what happened to you that night."  
  
  
"You; weren't the first time," Sydney said through clenched teeth.  
  
  
"I; got lucky. I might not have that luxury this time around. Everything changes, remember? I could be dead before you even step outside your apartment."  
  
  
"No; you won't," Sydney said determinedly. "I;'ll do whatever I have to do to keep you alive."  
  
  
"I;'m not doubting you, Sydney. I just want you to understand that—"  
  
  
"Stop; it," Sydney told him. "Just; stop, please." Sark sighed. "Look;, all that matters is that when we go back, we'll love each other and we'll do whatever we have to do that will allow us to be together."  
  
  
Sark locked eyes with Sydney, then leaned forward to cup her face in his hands as he pressed his lips to hers. Sydney opened her mouth to Sark's wandering tongue, allowing him to take the kiss deeper. They broke apart, breathless, and Sark stroked Sydney's cheek with his thumb, then suggested they go inside. Sydney agreed and they left the car and started for Sark's apartment.  
  
  
Once they had entered Sark's apartment, Sydney made note of how neat it was and how nicely it was furnished. She mentioned it to Sark, who simply mumbled an "Mhm;," wrapped his arms around her, and began to nibble on her neck.  
  
  
"You; win," Sydney sighed, leaning back against him and clasping her hands over Sark's which were planted firmly on her stomach. She let him lead her to his bedroom where they fell upon the bed together. The obnoxious clothes barrier was cleared in a matter of seconds, then they both lay there, looking at each other, a silent understanding.  
  
  
They would take their time.  
  
  
Sydney rolled on top of Sark, straddling his legs. She leaned forward, one hand on his chest to push him back down on the mattress, and kissed him. It was slow, gentle, and Sark wrapped an arm around Sydney's back to bring her closer. His free hand wandered from her face to her hair, fingers wrapping around the strands.  
  
  
Sydney sighed as she broke the kiss, and kept her hand firmly planted on Sark's chest to keep him at bay when he reached for more. Sydney directed her attention to Sark's jaw, planting soft kisses there, then moving upwards and doing the same to Sark's eyelids. Then she kissed him again, tongue stroking his, pulling back after a few moments and moving downwards.  
  
  
She kissed his neck, then nipped at the skin, and sucked gently at his hammering pulse. She pressed her lips to his once more, then began working her way down his body, her nose pressed to his chest and stomach as she traced a path with her lips.  
  
  
When she reached the evidence of his desire, she simply kept going, ignoring it completely, and smiling at Sark's low growl. Her fingers followed the path that her mouth had taken, stopping only to tweak Sark's nipples, then continuing downwards, where they, too, came into contact with the part of Sark's body that begged to be touched most.  
  
  
After running her hands up and down his legs, she obliged Sark, anchoring one hand around him and leaning forward to take him into her mouth.  
  
  
"Sydney;," he moaned, his fingers traveling down to Sydney's hair.  
  
  
She continued, urged on by his moans and groans, and his tensing muscles. Her free hand wandered up to his chest, and she flicked his nipples, then moved her hand down to his quivering stomach. Sark stopped her, moments before she finished him off, and moved to pin her body under his.  
  
  
He slammed his mouth down onto hers, then pulled away and began to imitate what Sydney had done to him. He kissed her jaw, her eyelids, her neck, and sucked lightly at her pulse. As he kissed his way down her body, he paused to swirl his tongue around her rigid nipples. Sydney moaned at this, arching her back, and Sark pushed her back down to mattress, his fingers splayed between her breasts.  
  
  
After trailing down her body, his mouth leaving a fiery wake, he finally reached her center. He ignored the pleas that came in the form of soft moans deep in her throat, and traced circles on her inner thighs with his tongue. He stroked her legs with his hands, drew patterns on her ankles, then moved back up and captured Sydney's lips with his own.  
  
  
She growled into his mouth and Sark suppressed a grin. He kissed her nose, then worked his way down again, deciding to give Sydney what she hungered for. His tongue slipped between, ran circles around her sensitive nub, then moved back, twisting inside.  
  
  
Sydney gasped and writhed against him, slamming her eyes shut. Sark added his fingers to the mix, deciding to concentrate his tongue on Sydney's nub. He pushed his fingers inside slowly, stroking whatever was within reach. Sydney clenched the sheets in her fists and clamped her teeth down hard on her tongue as she struggled to contain her scream.  
  
  
Finally, it became too much and when her orgasm hit her, jolting her entire body, she opened her mouth and in a loud moan cried, "Bryan;!"  
  
  
Sark carried her through the waves and the aftershocks, but upon hearing his name—his real name—from Sydney's lips, he was tempted to stop and ask her to repeat it. Sydney's body still trembled after the pleasure had passed, and Sark moved to sit beside her. Her eyes were closed, and Sark wanted them open. He told her so, and she obeyed.  
  
  
He traced the curve of her lips, and watched how her body still reacted to his touch, and how she was desperately trying to calm down. Her chest heaved, and she finally sat up to catch her breath. Sark pressed his forehead to her temple, and Sydney finally felt her breathing begin to return to normal. She turned her head towards him and captured his lips, threading her fingers in his hair.  
  
  
Sark pulled away, and Sydney dipped her head to look searchingly into his eyes. Sark kissed her forehead and smiled. Sydney continued to search his eyes for an explanation.  
  
  
"I; like hearing my real name from you," he whispered.  
  
  
A smile crept over Sydney's features. "Yeah;?"  
  
  
Sark nodded, and they kissed again. They separated and Sark touched his nose to Sydney's. "I; love you, Sydney."  
  
  
"I; love you, too," she paused, blushed a bit, and added, "Bryan.;"  
  
  
With that, Sark pressed his body to Sydney's and found her mouth with his as he entered her. Sydney had to break the kiss to catch her breath, and once she had, she pulled Sark's head down and forced her tongue into his mouth as he began to move within her.  
  
  
It didn't take either one of them long to climax, or to whisper one another's name when they did. Sydney wrapped her arms around Sark's neck, preventing him from moving. No matter, Sark wasn't planning on going anywhere.  
  
  
They stayed connected, sharing kisses and shallow breaths, neither one of them wanting to break the moment. They didn't know how long it would be before they would be in each other's arms again, if ever, when they finally used The Telling to go back.  
  
  
When they separated, Sark lay on his side next to Sydney, who was laying on her side as well, facing him and looking far into the dual pools of sapphire. Sark reached a hand towards her and began to trace her high cheekbone.  
  
  
Sydney's eyes softened and she shifted her head slightly on the pillow. "How; long do you think it'll be?"  
  
  
Sark frowned slightly, but continued moving his thumb across Sydney's cheek. Sydney looked at him expectantly, wanting an answer from him, and finally pulled Sark's hand away from her face.  
  
  
"I;'m serious."  
  
  
Sark sighed and withdrew his hand from Sydney's grasp. "I; know that."  
  
  
"Then; tell me." Her expression had gone from curious and hopeful to demanding and annoyed.  
  
  
"I; don't know, Sydney," Sark admitted finally. "It; could be tomorrow for all we know."  
  
  
Sydney took Sark's hand in hers again and thread her fingers through his. "If; it is, do you think we're ready?"  
  
  
Sark considered asking her to explain exactly what she meant by "ready;," but decided against it. "Yes;," was all he said.  
  
  
Sydney just nodded, and looked down at Sark's hand in hers, studying it as if she were trying to remember every single characteristic of it. Sark could relate—he was doing the very same regarding Sydney's eyes.  
  
  
Sark chuckled suddenly, and Sydney looked up at him. She smiled at him and Sark made note of the color that seeped into her cheeks when she did. "I; was wondering," he began, feeling his own cheeks grow warm, "I; was wondering if you have any idea just how beautiful you are."  
  
  
Sydney's eyes were glistening in an instant, and she said, "I; never really thought about it before."  
  
  
Sark tried not to grin. "No;?"  
  
  
Sydney shook her head, and if it was possible, Sark thought he saw even more color in her already red cheeks. "It;'s nice to hear it from someone, though," she conceded, dropping her gaze from Sark's.  
  
  
Sark shifted and moved closer to Sydney, smoothing one of her eyebrows with his thumb then pressing his lips to it. Sydney moved closer as well and Sark drew her into his arms. Her forehead rested firmly on his shoulder. Sark combed his fingers through Sydney's hair until he heard her breathing lapse into a regular pattern, indicating that she was asleep.  
  
  
He pulled her closer, kissing her hair, listening as her even breaths became soft sighs. He whispered into her ear that he loved her, and smiled when she drowsily murmured the same into his shoulder.  
  
  
Reaching down, he pulled the covers over them, and wrapped his arms more securely around Sydney and fell asleep.  
  
  
  
  
Several hours later, Sark thought he heard a faint knocking at the door. He disentangled himself from Sydney as gently and quietly as he could, and was relieved when she simply yawned and turned over, still asleep.  
  
  
He sat up and listened again. The sound of three more knocks floated into his ears. He stood from the bed, grabbing his clothes and beginning to dress as rapidly as he could. He was buttoning his shirt when he heard Sydney sigh deeply in her sleep. He didn't have the heart to wake her, and he wasn't sure he wanted to risk Sydney's safety by going to the door with her.  
  
  
Frowning, he left the room, doing up the last couple of buttons as he walked. A couple more knocks were heard by the time he reached the door. He opened it and gazed at the two people who stood before him.  
  
  
**A/N:** Yay, nice Syd and Will moment and Sarkney smut! All in one chapter! WHOO! Ahem, anyways. I'm working on chappy 34, and have about a page of it done, so I should hopefully have it up sometime this weekend. Oh, did you guys check out the promo pics for ep 4 at The Safehouse? Mmmm very hot.  
  
Only two more days!  
  
[insert gratuitous Emmy gripe] Dudes, how did Lena lose? I mean, seriously, Tyne DALY? wtf, over And Victor, well, I'm glad that Joey Pants, won, but still As for Jen, she didn't stand a chance against Edie. But she definitely got F-ed last year. Allison JANNEY? WTF? [end gratuitous Emmy gripe]  
  
Once again, ahem. ;P  
  
I should mention, though, that JenLenaVictor all looked GORGEOUS. At least that's one plus.  
  
*hugs for my reviewers* Love you guys!  
  
~E


	34. Time

**Thirty-Four  
  
Time  
  
  
  
**

Sark came face to face with Jack—  
  
  
"Where; is Sydney?"  
  
  
—and Irina.  
  
  
"Jack;, relax."  
  
  
Sark would have smiled at Irina's near eye-roll, but thought better of it, deciding that he didn't feel like getting pummeled by Jack Bristow. Instead, he looked up at Jack and shoved his hands into his pockets. "She;'s asleep."  
  
  
A fleeting look of anger passed over Jack's features but was gone within the instant. Sark invited Irina and Jack inside.  
  
  
"You;'ll have to wake her," Irina said, walking over to the couch in Sark's living room. "She; needs to hear this."  
  
  
Sark nodded and sidestepped Jack who had moved in front of him, and walked towards his bedroom. He spotted Sydney just barely awake and lying on her back as she gazed up at him.  
  
  
"Why; are you dressed?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.  
  
  
"Your; parents are here."  
  
  
Sydney sat up with a start, and scrambled out of bed, searching for her clothes. "Why; didn't you wake me up?" she demanded in a loud whisper.  
  
  
"I; had no way of knowing who was at the door, and I didn't want to disturb you if it was a false alarm," Sark said with a shrug.  
  
  
"Well;," Sydney scoffed, "thank; you for caring." She zipped up her pants, and Sark watched with amusement as she paraded around the room topless searching, to no avail, for her bra.  
  
  
Sark tilted his head to one side and looked down at the floor on the side of the bed where he was standing. He bent down and snatched up the item peeking out from under the covers that were half on the bed, half on the floor. He stood up and held it out to Sydney, who sighed with exasperation as she thanked him and put it on. She tugged her shirt on over it, and smoothed her hair with her hands.  
  
  
Sydney left the room first, with Sark on her heels. When she saw her father, she wasn't sure what she was supposed to say to him and she was even less sure about what he might say to her. So, instead of speaking, she simply nodded to acknowledge his presence and made her way over to the chair that was a few feet away from the couch.  
  
  
Sark sat on the arm of the chair, and he and Sydney looked imploringly at Jack and Irina, waiting for them to announce the matter at hand, whatever it was.  
  
  
"We; have to do this tonight," Irina said, her voice just above a whisper.  
  
  
Sydney's eyes widened. "You; got The Telling already?" Irina nodded. "H-how;? W-when?"  
  
  
Irina looked at Jack as she said, "Earlier; tonight."  
  
  
Sydney started to ask another question when Jack spoke. "Sloane; was actually keeping it nearby. I told him I was hoping to use it for some personal reasons and he agreed without hesitation."  
  
  
Sydney looked at her father and felt her blood run cold at his stony, unwavering stare. She shifted uncomfortably and finally looked away, and was grateful when Sark decided to break the silence.  
  
  
"So; tonight then?" he asked.  
  
  
"Tonight;, yes," Irina confirmed, after glancing at both Sydney and Jack.  
  
  
Sydney stood up. "Let;'s get going."  
  
  
Irina bit her lip. "I;'d much rather inform you of the plan before we do anything."  
  
  
Sydney arched an eyebrow. "You; have a plan?"  
  
  
Irina had to hide her smile. "Yes;, Sydney, I have a plan. Sit down so I can explain it to you."  
  
  
Exhaling sharply as she felt her cheeks grow warm, Sydney parked herself in the chair again. She fixed her gaze on her mother, inviting her to divulge what she had in mind.  
  
  
After taking a moment to resituate herself on the couch, Irina began. "I; believe the best course of action would be convincing Kendall that Sark's assistance would be required on a certain mission. You should be able to make Kendall believe that this is the case, and then go on the mission. During the mission, Sark's death will be faked, and I'll be responsible for retrieving him."  
  
  
"What; if that doesn't work?" Sydney asked, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees.  
  
  
"It; will," Irina said flatly, and Sydney abandoned her doubts. "So;, Sark will be with me until you finish whatever needs to be finished."  
  
  
Sydney felt the need to clarify, "You; mean breaking up with Vaughn."  
  
  
"Yes;," Irina said, nodding, "and; also your resignation from the CIA."  
  
  
Sydney didn't respond immediately, and after a moment had passed, the silence in the room seemed almost deafening. On some level, she knew that leaving the CIA would be involved in making the plan work, but since it had become such an integral part of her life, she wasn't sure she would be able to make a rash decision and simply let it go.  
  
  
She reminded herself that she had planned to do it already, and had nearly gone through with it, but had elected not to because she wouldn't have been able to see her mother.  
  
  
She sighed as she leaned back in her chair, suddenly becoming aware that everyone in the room was staring at her, waiting for her to make some sort of comment. Finally, she nodded, her eyes focused on her hands, folded and resting in her lap.  
  
  
Sydney stood up once again and glanced at her parents and Sark. "I;'m ready to get this over with."  
  
  
Sark stood up as well. "I;'m with Sydney."  
  
  
Irina and Jack exchanged a brief glance before getting up as well and walking to the door. Sydney and Sark exchanged glances as well, along with a chaste kiss. Sark grabbed his keys and locked the door behind them.  
  
  
  
  
The four arrived at an abandoned warehouse, eerily similar to the ones Sydney had frequented during her days as a double-agent. Their shoes clicked on the floor as they walked towards the part of the warehouse where The Telling evidently resided. Sydney couldn't help looking around the dark warehouse, past the chain link fences and crates, and remembering how horrible and desolate her double life had been.  
  
  
She was lost in thought and still glancing around the all too gray warehouse when they finally reached the machine. Sark took her hand and held it as Irina and Jack began to set everything up. Sydney snapped out of her reverie and watched her parents work to get the machine in working order. She observed them with admiration in her eyes, seeing how they worked so closely together and so well, even stealing glances here and there.  
  
  
It all made her wonder about the bond that her parents had evidently formed when she had been in Sloane's clutches. She remembered what her mother had told her at the ice rink about her escape from the CIA, just days before her world had been turned upside-down.  
  
  
_"When; the time came for my escape, it was painful, because my love for you, for your father, was not a contrivance."  
  
_  
She definitely believed it. Her mother hadn't been lying, and she knew that even though her father had harbored a deep hurt due to Irina's initial betrayal, he still loved her. Sydney could only imagine what effect her disappearance had had on her parents. But, one thing was for certain—it had brought them closer together than they had ever been before.  
  
  
A happy, relieved sigh escaped her lips and her parents turned to look at her. A smile spread across her face, and her parents both smiled back at her, before glancing quickly at one another and returning to the task at hand.  
  
  
Sydney knew Sark was looking at her, so she turned towards him and kissed his mouth. A boyish grin crossed his lips and he kissed the tip of Sydney's nose. Smiling, Sydney returned the favor, then looked back at her parents and The Telling.  
  
  
"It;'s ready," Jack announced.  
  
  
_Me too,_ Sydney thought. Somehow, it seemed like everything would work out.  
  
  
"How; does it work?" Sark asked.  
  
  
Irina began a detailed explanation, but Sydney wasn't listening. Instead, she was looking at the jumble of Rambaldi artifacts that comprised the machine. She recognized several, including the clock with the Golden Sun that she had retrieved over three years before. The clock seemed to be the most important part of the device, as it appeared to be what was used to set the date to which they would return.  
  
  
Sydney looked up to find her mother beckoning her forth with outstretched arms. She walked over and stepped into her mother's embrace. Sydney closed her eyes and listened to the words of encouragement being whispered into her ear. Irina reminded Sydney of the phone number that she had given to her and told her to call when she returned, so that she would know everything had gone according to plan.  
  
  
When Sydney stepped back, her mother kissed her forehead and gestured with her hand for her to turn to her father.  
  
  
Jack was talking to Sark about fifteen feet away. Sydney couldn't hear what was being said because they were talking so quietly, but she had a fair guess as to what was being discussed.  
  
  
Sydney glanced at her mother who was also watching the exchange, and whispered, "I; hope Dad's not being too hard on him."  
  
  
Irina only smiled and kissed Sydney's cheek.  
  
  
The conversation apparently finished, Jack and Sark shook hands and walked back over to the women, who had both turned their backs to the men so as not to look like they had been observing the entire event. Jack touched his daughter's shoulder and she turned to face him. Jack was wearing his trademark smile that wasn't quite a smile and Sydney was beaming at him.  
  
  
Jack touched her hair lightly, lovingly, then held her face in both hands as he kissed her forehead. He wrapped Sydney up in a hug, then stepped back and regarded her once more before turning to Irina.  
  
  
"Could; you give us a moment?" Irina asked, looking at both her daughter and Sark.  
  
  
Nodding, Sydney and Sark walked away from Jack and Irina and slipped around a corner. Sydney peered around the wall and saw her parents smiling at one another as they talked quietly. Sydney pressed her back against the wall and closed her eyes. The next thing she knew, Sark was kissing her ever so gently, and she was drawing him closer to her so that his body pressed against hers. Sydney opened her mouth under Sark's, inviting him to deepen the kiss. His hands cupped her face and Sydney covered Sark's hands with her own.  
  
  
Breathing heavily, they pulled apart, taking air into their starved lungs. Sark kissed Sydney's cheeks, nose, and eyelids, then leaned his forehead against hers.  
  
  
"I; love you Sydney, and whatever happens—"  
  
  
Sydney silenced him with her finger on his lips. She replaced her finger with her mouth and weaved her fingers into his hair as she kissed him. When she pulled back, she whispered that she loved him, too, and planted another kiss on his lips before peering around the corner again.  
  
  
Jack and Irina were in a liplock of their own, and Sydney felt the color seep into her cheeks as she whipped back around to face Sark. He eyed her suspiciously, then took a look for himself, seeing the same scene that Sydney had. He pulled back and grinned at her, and Sydney swatted at his chest, before grasping his shirt in her fist and pulling him towards her as she roughly pressed her mouth against his.  
  
  
They stayed that way until they both heard their names called, signaling, apparently, that it was time. They reluctantly separated and walked hand in hand around the corner and towards Jack and Irina.  
  
  
"Everything;'s ready?" Sydney asked.  
  
  
"Yes;, all set," Irina said with a nod. She held her hand out to Sydney. "Come; here."  
  
  
Sydney kissed and embraced Sark one last time before going to her mother. Irina took Sydney's hand and placed it palm up against a flat, silver-colored part of the machine. Sydney watched as her mother adjusted the hands of the clock for the date, as well as the Golden Sun for, Sydney surmised, the year. Irina pressed a button and moved the hands again, and Sydney figured she was setting the exact time and that the date had already been locked in.  
  
  
Irina caught her daughter's gaze and asked softly, "Ready;?" Sydney nodded and a bit of her hair fell into her face. Irina tucked it behind Sydney's ear, and turned back to the machine. With a sigh, she turned it on.  
  
  
Sydney listened to the roars and clanks of it for a few seconds, then everything went black.  
  
  
**A/N:** This is the first part of a two-part update, so whoo hoo! I finally got some time to hammer out a couple of chapters, and I am REALLY excited about the time travel FINALLY happening.  
  
Okay, show stuff: I thought the premiere was especially weak, but the second ep was actually not all that bad. Plus, it had lots of Sark. (Damn, how delicious did he look in that ep? Meooww ahem;x). "Reunion;" was um okay, I guess. The S/V crap was especially blatant, and I did a ton of eye rolling, but whatever. I mean, Christ, they cut to a freaking VIOLIN during the exchange of lusty stares at the party. WhatEVER. Yeah, I'm pissed. This whole situation sucks. But Lauren is pretty damn cool. She loves Vaughn and she ain't afraid of Sydney, so she's A-okay in my book. I can't wait until next week. Justin Theroux, mmmmm! Oh oh, and Justin Theroux making out with Jen, also mmmmm! (I have the promo pic on my desktop right now, gosh is it yummy ahem, once again;x).  
  
Stuff about the next chappy: it is pretty much an S/V chapter, so you're definitely warned. If you're so inclined, you may pay a visit to the porcelain gawd before you read. **Linz**, I promise you, you will LOVE this chapter. I hope so, at least. There's probably some stuff in it that you'll hate me for, but you should probably really enjoy everything else.  
  
Read on! *hug for you guys*  
  
  
~E


	35. Return

**Thirty-Five  
  
Return  
  
  
  
**

Doren slumped to the ground, and Sydney kept the gun raised for a moment before letting it slip out of her hand. She fought to keep her eyes open. Her head was spinning and everything was blurry. She gasped and sat up, suddenly remembering where she was. It took her a moment to recall that The Telling had been used to go back to this night and she needed to call a team to get Will to the hospital.  
  
  
Coughing, she crawled over to her bed, blood spewing out of her mouth. She used the bed and her wavering upper body strength to pull herself to her feet. When she was finally able to stand, the world around her was still blurry and she put a hand against her forehead as she flopped down on the bed, trying to collect herself.  
  
  
Her breathing labored and her vision still not perfect, Sydney hauled herself up on shaky legs and bent down to pick up the gun. She held it tightly in her trembling hand and, with one last look at Doren, wandered through the wreckage of the apartment. She nearly tripped several times on broken items and various other things that were strewn about.  
  
  
She made her way to the phone and picked it up. She punched in numbers with blood-stained fingers and waited as it rang. After several rings, each of which made Sydney grasp the coiled phone cord and wrap it tighter and tighter around her fingers, Kendall finally answered.  
  
  
"Yes;?" he said in the most bored tone of voice Sydney had ever heard, which heightened her frustration.  
  
  
"I; need you to send a team over here right now," she rasped.  
  
  
"Ms.; Bristow? What's going on?"  
  
  
"The; double—Doren—she killed my friend, Francie, and took her place. I killed her, but she got to Will. He needs to get to a hospital."  
  
  
Kendall was silent for a few moments, and as much as it bugged the hell out of Sydney, she realized that he was trying to make sense of everything. "Okay.; I'm getting a team together right now. Stay put." Sydney was about to hang up when Kendall added in a gentle voice, "Be; careful."  
  
  
"I; will." Sydney hung up the phone and walked quickly to the bathroom. She spotted Will, unmoving, in the bathtub and the mere sight caused her to fling the toilet seat up and vomit into the bowl. She wheezed for about a minute, then got to her feet and rinsed the horrible taste out of her mouth.  
  
  
She grabbed some clean towels and tentatively approached the bathtub again, dropping to her knees and setting down the gun briefly so that she could tend to Will's wounds. She ripped open his shirt and pressed the towels firmly against the open wounds. She checked for a pulse and found one, albeit a fairly weak one. She checked to see if he was breathing and found that he wasn't. She leaned over the side of the tub and began to perform rescue breathing on him.  
  
  
Luckily, after a few tries, Will came to with a coughing fit. He looked around and tried to sit up, but Sydney gently pushed him back down and told him not to move. He looked at the towel that Sydney was pushing against his stomach, applying pressure to the wound there, and nearly flipped.  
  
  
"Syd;—oh my God—I'm—Doren stabbed me—" Will was frantic and his voice was hoarse. Sydney, unsteady as she was, managed to clap a hand over his mouth until he quieted down. Will looked up at her, saw the stains of blood on her clothes, the cuts on her face, and the blood caked to the sides of her mouth. "Sydney;—" He reached a hand to her face.  
  
  
"Shhh;," Sydney coaxed, taking Will's hand in her own. "Kendall; has a team on the way. You'll go to the hospital and you'll be good as new."  
  
  
"What; did she do to you?" Will rasped, attempting to sit up once again. "If; she—" he stopped to cough almost violently, "I;'ll kill her, I will—"  
  
  
"Will;," Sydney whispered, "everything;'s okay."  
  
  
"Is; she—is she—"  
  
  
"Dead;?" Sydney prompted. "Yes.;"  
  
  
"Okay;," Will said, trying his best to nod, "okay.; Good." He abandoned any more attempts to sit up and slumped back down, breathing heavily, his eyes shut tight.  
  
  
Trembling, hating to see Will like this, Sydney leaned over as far as she could and pressed her forehead to Will's. She kept her hold on his hand, squeezing a little tighter, closing her eyes to try and block everything out.  
  
  
It wasn't long before silence filled the room completely and all that could be heard were Sydney and Will's breaths mingling. A few minutes later, Sydney heard the doorbell. At first she thought it was the team, but then she remembered—Vaughn was supposed to pick her up so that they could go to Santa Barbara.  
  
  
She stood up slowly and found that Will was asleep. She padded out of the bathroom, still rather unsteady, and went to the door. She opened it, and, wonder of wonders, Vaughn was standing before her, wearing the biggest smile. She looked at him for a moment, not saying anything just yet, and saw his expression change.  
  
  
Vaughn pushed past her and entered the apartment, seeing the place in complete and utter ruin. He heard Sydney close the door and turned to face her.  
  
  
"Syd;, what the hell happened?" Sydney didn't answer at first, only stared at him with sad eyes. Vaughn looked over his shoulder to survey the mess once again, then placed his hands on Sydney's shoulders. "What; happened?" he asked again.  
  
  
Sydney opened her mouth to explain, her lower lip quivering. Finally, she gave up and just shook her head. Vaughn nodded, seeming to understand that she needed some time to collect her thoughts, and grasped her face in both hands, pressing his lips to the top of her head. Sydney's knees buckled and she crumpled to the ground. Vaughn caught her, kneeling down and wrapping his arms around her shoulders, burying his face in the crook of her neck as he held her.  
  
  
  
  
A while later, Vaughn was still kneeling with his arms wrapped securely around Sydney as her entire body trembled. Kendall's team had arrived, and didn't ask any questions nor demand any answers, as they stormed the apartment, taking Will out on a stretcher and Doren's body out in a black bag.  
  
  
The unofficial leader of the team looked at Vaughn and Sydney for a moment, and Vaughn said that he would give Sydney a ride to the hospital when she was feeling better. The leader nodded and told Vaughn that they would be back later to sweep the place for evidence, then left the apartment, closing the door behind him.  
  
  
Vaughn stood up and gathered Sydney in his arms as he held her to stand as well. She leaned against him, arms at her sides, completely weak and worn out. He stroked her hair and held her tightly, hoping that she would open up soon and tell him what had taken place.  
  
  
His wish was granted when Sydney pulled back and looked up at him with bloodshot eyes. "Francie; was doubled. Doren took her place. I ended up fighting her just a few minutes after you had dropped me off. I found Will in the bathtub during the fight—Doren stabbed him. I ended up shooting her three times, killing her, then I called Kendall and told him to send a team. I went to check on Will and help with his wounds. Then you came, and—" She shrugged and shook her head, then put her head in her hands.  
  
  
Vaughn welcomed her back into his arms and held her again as she rested her head on his shoulder. "The; team came by," he whispered, soothing her hair with his fingers. "They; took Will to the hospital and they carried Doren out in a body bag."  
  
  
"So; she's definitely dead," Sydney said quietly.  
  
  
"Yeah;, she's definitely dead."  
  
  
"Okay.;"  
  
  
"We; should get to the hospital," Vaughn said softly. "Will;'s probably in surgery, and you need to get checked out. You're probably more hurt than you realize."  
  
  
There was a moment of clarity for Sydney, and she realized that Vaughn's words spoke to her on a much deeper level than he would ever know. "Yeah;," she agreed, "I;'m sure I am." She sighed. "I;'m still working off of adrenaline, though. I'll feel everything tomorrow." She managed a rueful laugh.  
  
  
Vaughn hugged her tighter, then pulled back and gave her a once-over, seeing if there was anything beyond the bloody cuts that he may have missed. He touched her face with his hands, feeling tears prick his eyelids. He sniffed and cleared his throat.  
  
  
"I; could have lost you tonight," he said quietly. "I; might never have seen you again."  
  
  
"I; know," Sydney said in an equally hushed tone, "but; I'm okay."  
  
  
"Thank; God," Vaughn said, blinking back tears.  
  
  
" Sydney said softly, touching her palm to the stubble on Vaughn's cheek.  
  
  
" He shook his head. "God;, I mean—" He swallowed hard. "I; know these aren't the most ideal circumstances, and I know I should have told you this months ago, but Sydney I love you."  
  
  
Sydney was at a loss for words. Of all the things he could have said, she certainly hadn't expected him to tell her he loved her. She knew that he did, of course, but she hadn't prepared herself to hear the words come out of his mouth. She looked down, then back up at Vaughn, and threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder so she wouldn't have to answer. Vaughn held her, rubbing circles into her back.  
  
  
His voice rough, Vaughn declared, "We; need to get to the hospital."  
  
  
Sydney agreed and started for the door, Vaughn's arm around her shoulders. She stepped over the broken glass of her coffee table and went out the door.  
  
  
  
  
Sydney sat next to Vaughn in one of the chairs in the waiting room. She shivered because the whole situation reminded her of the mission in Ireland when she was waiting for the verdict on those she loved most. Vaughn took her hand in his, tracing patterns on it with his thumb.  
  
  
Sydney glanced down for a moment, then looked straight ahead at the doors of the ER, just waiting for a doctor to emerge from them to say that he had good news.  
  
  
Vaughn released Sydney's hand and stood up. He answered Sydney's confused expression with a simple, "I;'m going to walk for a while." Sydney nodded and turned back to the double doors. Vaughn watched her for a moment, a desolate expression on his face, then walked off.  
  
  
Sydney leaned forward with her elbows on her knees and finally took her eyes off of the doors. She stared down at the shiny tile floor and shook her head slightly to clear her thoughts. Despite what her mother had told her, that changing even one tiny circumstance with The Telling, she knew that Will had to be okay. He just *had* to be.  
  
  
She couldn't live without Will, and she refused to have to do that. He was the only friend she had left because Francie was dead. She rubbed her eyes with balled up fists, and sighed as she slumped against the back of the chair.  
  
  
Her thoughts turned to Sark and she wondered how he was doing. She had no doubt that the CIA wouldn't waste any time in questioning him to find out what role he had played in the incident. She just hoped she wouldn't be too late when she finally got the chance to see him.  
  
  
When she looked up again, a doctor was striding out of the double doors. Sydney leaped to her feet and went over to him, bombarding him with questions. The doctor simply smiled and patted her shoulders.  
  
  
"He;'s fine, he came out of surgery and he's still relatively weak, but he's going to be just fine."  
  
  
Sydney allowed herself a small moment to rejoice over this news, then asked, "Can; I see him?"  
  
  
The doctor shook his head. "I; really don't think it's a good idea. Like I said, he's still very weak, and I don't want him to get too worked up with visitors." Sydney's heart sank, and the doctor added, "I;'m sure he'll be feeling much better tomorrow, so you can come by and see him then."  
  
  
"Thank; you," Sydney murmured, and the doctor nodded and went back through the double doors. Sydney smiled to herself and turned slightly to find that Vaughn had materialized beside her. She raised an eyebrow, but decided not to ask him how he had gotten there so fast.  
  
  
"So; you'll be able to sleep tonight, right?" Vaughn asked, a small smile appearing on his lips.  
  
  
Sydney couldn't resist returning the smile. "Yeah;, I think so."  
  
  
"Good;," Vaughn said, and slipped an arm around Sydney's shoulders. The two began walking towards the exit. "We;'ll stop by your place and you can pack a few things, then you can go ahead and stay with me."  
  
  
Sydney nodded her agreement and they walked out to Vaughn's car.  
  
  
  
  
Sydney walked through the assorted broken things that littered the floor as she made her way to her bedroom. Another team had been assembled and the members were gathering up the pieces of what used to resemble real items.  
  
  
When she got to her room, Vaughn on her heels, she saw several people cleaning, sweeping, and painting. She noticed a trail of blood on the wall where Doren had thrown her into the full-length mirror. She touched her fingers to the back of her head and was relieved to find that the blood had apparently dried.  
  
  
She stepped around one of the people scrubbing the blood out of the carpet so she could reach her closet. She opened it up and took out her suitcase. She lifted the flap and began going through her closet for clothes she wanted to wear. She made her selections and folded everything quickly, then went to her bureau. With a somewhat embarrassed glance around, she made a rather messy pile of undergarments and threw those into a smaller compartment of the suitcase.  
  
  
She went back to her closet and threw in some shoes, then zipped up her suitcase and closed her closet door. She left her suitcase and cautiously went to the bathroom. She figured the bathroom must have been taken care of first because it was practically spotless. She grabbed a brush, soap, shampoo, toothpaste, and her toothbrush, and opened a drawer which contained a small bag for the items. She went back to her bedroom and opened one of the outer compartments and slipped the bag inside. She sighed, then turned and saw Vaughn waiting patiently for her, and he smiled at her when she held up her packed suitcase. He took it from her and led the way out of the apartment.  
  
  
  
  
Vaughn opened the door to his apartment and gestured for Sydney to go inside first. She looked around as Vaughn carried her suitcase inside and shut the front door.  
  
  
"Nice; place," she commented with an appreciative nod as she shoved her hands into the back pockets of her jeans.  
  
  
"Thanks;," Vaughn said, and Sydney could swear he blushed a little bit.  
  
  
Sydney glanced down at what she was wearing, which were the same clothes she had fought in. She bit her lip and looked at Vaughn. "Do; you mind if I take a shower?"  
  
  
Vaughn all but chuckled and shook his head. Sydney thanked him with a smile and went over to her suitcase to retrieve the bag with her toiletries. She kneeled down and unzipped the compartment and removed the bag. When she stood back up, Vaughn was standing in front of her. She looked at him for a moment, not ignoring the fiery lust in his eyes.  
  
  
Tentatively, he pressed his lips to hers, unsure of how she might react. He was taking a chance, given their current circumstances and Sydney's instability. He pulled back and she seemed to be on the brink of letting him in, so he pushed his luck and kissed her again.  
  
  
This time, Sydney pulled back, a bit dazed, and mumbled, "Let; me take a shower first, at least." Vaughn nodded and kissed her again, then watched as she walked down the small hall and went into the bathroom.  
  
  
Sydney tossed the bag on the counter and flipped on the shower water. She gripped the counter with unsteady hands and regarded herself in the mirror. She couldn't believe how haggard she looked. Her eyes were completely bloodshot and there were wrinkles that she had never seen before. Her overall complexion left a lot to be desired, and there were cuts and scratches on her face as well. She touched a spot of dried blood on her forehead near her hairline.  
  
  
Steam had begun to billow around her and she stripped quickly, then grabbed her soap and climbed into the shower. She couldn't hold back the sigh of utter pleasure as the hot water rained down on her skin, washing away—little by little—the pain of the day.  
  
  
She scrubbed her entire body, watching with amusement as a bit of blood trickled down the drain. She washed her hair twice, then stood under the water for a few minutes, trying to relax as best she could.  
  
  
_Sex with Vaughn,_ she thought, and sighed heavily. She couldn't turn him down, but she felt guilty for cheating on Sark. She remembered what he said, though, that he didn't want her to fill him in on the minor details of the relationship she would have to pretend she was in, and felt a tad bit better. They both knew what was likely to take place, and it was necessary that it did. Still though, it hurt.  
  
  
She shut off the water and rung out her hair. She stepped out of the shower and grabbed what looked to be a clean towel and dried herself off, then wrapped the towel around herself. She pulled her brush through her hair a few times, then ran her fingers through it.  
  
  
She pulled open the door and peered out into the hall. She could see into the living room, and noticed that Vaughn must have taken her suitcase into his bedroom. She walked down the hall in search of his room, and when she found it, she also found Vaughn stretched out on the bed in nothing but a pair of black boxer-briefs.  
  
  
Despite her qualms about the situation, the woman in her couldn't resist crossing her arms over her chest, pursing her lips, and giving Vaughn a nod of approval about his attire. In response, Vaughn stood from the bed and claimed her lips in a rough kiss. Sydney kissed back, just as rough as Vaughn, then pulled back abruptly and went over to the edge of the bed.  
  
  
She whisked away the towel, letting it slip out of her fingers and drop onto the floor. She stood before Vaughn's hungry eyes, devouring her with each glance. Her stomach churned with her guilt, but she ignored the feeling and sat down on the edge of the bed. Vaughn was drawn to her like a moth to a flame and he leaned over her as Sydney parted her legs and he stepped between them.  
  
  
Sydney lay back on the bed, her legs dangling over the edge. Vaughn kissed her mouth, then swiftly trailed his mouth over her chest and stomach. Sydney sat up a bit so she could yank down Vaughn's only article of clothing, and he helped by stepping out of them and tossing them somewhere.  
  
  
Vaughn resumed his exploration of Sydney's body, going much too slowly for Sydney's tastes. She didn't want to think, she wanted him to just fuck her and be done with it.  
  
  
When he slowly started torturing one of her nipples with his tongue, Sydney growled and dug her nails into his hips. Vaughn yelped and fixed Sydney with an angry stare. Sydney simply glared at him, and finally Vaughn decided to speed things up.  
  
  
He trailed his fingers across her inner thighs, then went straight to her center, thumbing the sensitive nub. Sydney wasn't able to suppress her moan, and tilted her head back as she lifted her hips up to him. Vaughn leaned down to kiss her as he continued driving her wild with his touch.  
  
  
He started to slow down when he felt the evidence of Sydney's desire coat his fingertips. Sydney bit down hard on his lip and took Vaughn in her hands, stroking, squeezing. Vaughn groaned and slapped Sydney's hands away when he got too close. He gazed into Sydney's eyes, seeing absolute lust in them, and not doubting that Sydney saw the same mirrored in his own eyes. He moved his hand away from her center and slid his hands under her to lift her up as he impaled her with one thrust.  
  
  
Sydney gripped the bed sheets and Vaughn began to move within her, slowly at first, then picking up speed. Soon, his movements were frantic, and Sydney was about to go flying over the edge. Sensing this, Vaughn moved his hand back into place and began thumbing her nub again.  
  
  
The orgasm hit her hard, and Sydney was left shaking as Vaughn finished up, exploding inside of her. Vaughn's name had filled her head, but she didn't allow herself to say it. He said hers though, a gruff whisper that came from deep in his throat.  
  
  
He leaned over her, breathing hard, and kissed her. When he broke the kiss, he became aware of the tears on her cheeks. He kissed them away, his heart suddenly feeling like it was weighing down his entire body. He sat down beside her and held her in his arms, his nose nuzzling her hair.  
  
  
"It;'s okay," he whispered.  
  
  
Sydney sniffled and mumbled, "I;'m sorry, I'm just thinking about what happened tonight." The lie twisted her stomach into more knots than Sydney thought possible.  
  
  
"It;'s okay," Vaughn said again, "I; can't imagine what it must have been like."  
  
  
Sydney nodded and said, "I;'m sorry, Vaughn, I didn't mean to cry when—"  
  
  
"Shh;," Vaughn coaxed, "I; understand, Sydney. Don't worry. This was probably a bad idea, and I apologize."  
  
  
Sydney shook her head vigorously. "No;, Vaughn, it's not your fault. It's no one's fault. Really."  
  
  
Vaughn held her, wiping away the fresh tears that streamed down Sydney's cheeks. "Let;'s get some sleep," he whispered.  
  
  
"Okay;," Sydney said, and stood up to go to her suitcase. Under normal circumstances, she would have slept naked, but these were far from normal circumstances. Vaughn seemed to understand because he put his boxer-briefs back on and threw an over-sized shirt over them. Sydney put on a pair of panties and a long shirt that went to about mid-thigh. She wandered back over to the bed where Vaughn was already perched, and climbed in beside him, but facing away. She didn't resist when he wrapped his arms around her, and sighed a bit when his chin dropped onto her shoulder.  
  
  
She lay awake for a while, even after Vaughn had already fallen asleep. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to fall asleep with the amount of things she had to worry about. She wanted badly to see Will and talk to him, and she definitely wanted to see Sark and hoped that he was okay.  
  
  
She was about to make an attempt at sleeping, when she was hit hard with a sudden realization—she had forgotten to call her mother. Irina had told her to call and tell her that things had gone well, and that she was okay. She mentally kicked herself, and slipped out of bed as silently as she could. She looked over her shoulder at Vaughn, and couldn't help smiling at how cute he looked with his arms splayed across the sheets where she had been laying.  
  
  
She kissed his forehead and cheeks, then padded silently out of the room, looking for a phone. She found one and it took her a moment to remember the number. She punched it in and waited as the line rang. Half a second later, her mother picked up and was understandably panicked as she launched dozens of questions at Sydney.  
  
  
"I;'m fine, Mom," Sydney assured her. "We; went to the hospital, and Will's doing all right. Vaughn took me back to my apartment so I could pack a few things and now I'm over at his place."  
  
  
"Have; you talked to your father yet?"  
  
  
The question struck Sydney as odd, but she let it pass. "Not; yet—why?"  
  
  
"No; reason."  
  
  
"I; haven't talked to Kendall yet, either. I'm sure he'll want a full run-down of the night's events tomorrow."  
  
  
"Probably.;"  
  
  
They were both silent for a few minutes.  
  
  
"Be; safe, Sydney," Irina said softly.  
  
  
"I; will," Sydney replied. "Love; you."  
  
  
Irina didn't reply at first, and Sydney figured it was because she was momentarily overwhelmed. "Love; you too, babe."  
  
  
"I;'ll see you soon," Sydney added.  
  
  
"See; you soon."  
  
  
Sydney placed the receiver back in its cradle as quietly as she could, then wandered back into Vaughn's bedroom. He hadn't moved, so Sydney slid underneath the covers and felt herself smile when Vaughn's arms held her close again and his chin resumed its perch on her shoulder.  
  
  
In his sleep, Vaughn murmured, "I; love you, Sydney."  
  
  
Sydney felt tears prick her eyes again. She couldn't return the words to him, and it hurt her because she knew how much Vaughn loved her, and how happy he would be if she said the words back to him.  
  
  
Linking her fingers through his, Sydney simply whispered, " and fell asleep.  
  
  
**A/N:** *peeks out from indestructible hiding place* No one hates me, right? Right? Gah:x Anyways, you guys should know that I actually WANTED Sydney to do the I love you thing with Vaughn. I mean, poor guy, he says I love you and she doesn't say it back. Even though the circumstances suck, it's gotta sting a little bit. :( **Linz**, I'll let you comfort him;x As for other stuff, the next chappy should include a convo with Will, a convo with Sark, and jealous!Vaughn. Aw yeah, it should be good.  
  
Btw, I'm 823 words away from reaching 100,000. Yaay!  
  
  
~E


	36. Admission

**Thirty-Six  
  
Admission  
  
  
  
**

Sydney awoke and turned over to find that Vaughn wasn't in bed with her. She sat up and as soon as she did, Vaughn came sauntering into the room.  
  
  
"Morning;," he greeted her, climbing back into bed.  
  
  
Sydney raised an eyebrow. "Where; did you go?"  
  
  
"Phone; call," Vaughn said with a shrug.  
  
  
Sydney looked pointedly at the phone on Vaughn's bedside table, then looked back at Vaughn. "That;'s a phone too, you know."  
  
  
"I; didn't want to wake you up."  
  
  
"Oh.;"  
  
  
"I;'m going back to sleep, good night." He kissed her.  
  
  
"Vaughn.;"  
  
  
He looked at her. "Yeah;?"  
  
  
"Who;'d you call?"  
  
  
Vaughn frowned. "Does; it matter?"  
  
  
"Well;, you're being way too nonchalant about it, so now I'm curious," Sydney said.  
  
  
"I; called the hotel. I canceled the reservations I made."  
  
  
_Shit._ "I;'m sorry, Vaughn, I completely forgot—"  
  
  
"Syd;," he said softly, "don;'t worry about it." Sydney nodded, and Vaughn stroked her cheek with his hand. He kissed her again, drew back after a moment, and saw the hazy look in Sydney's eyes. He rolled over, pinning her beneath him.  
  
  
He trailed a hand down her leg, then back up, lifting her shirt a bit. He began to suck on her neck.  
  
  
"Vaughn;, we need to get ready for work."  
  
  
"Sydney;, you have got to be kidding."  
  
  
Sydney shook her head, and disentangled herself from Vaughn so she could stand up. "I;'m sure Kendall wants a full run-down of what happened last night, and I want to get it over with so I can go see Will."  
  
  
Vaughn reluctantly stood up as well. "All; right."  
  
  
Sydney dug out her toothbrush and toothpaste and went into the bathroom. Vaughn followed and began brushing his teeth when Sydney did. He looked over at her every now and then, a small smile playing on his lips. Finally, Sydney spat out her toothpaste and asked what was up.  
  
  
Vaughn spat as well and said, "I; just always had this image in my head, that, when I got married, my wife and I would start off the morning by brushing our teeth together."  
  
  
Sydney bit her lip to keep from laughing. Vaughn rinsed off his toothbrush.  
  
  
"I; know it's crazy," he said.  
  
  
Sydney tried to hide her laughter by rinsing her mouth, but alas, she was unsuccessful. "Seriously;," she started, "you; have this picture of you and—you know—your wife, and you guys are standing in front of the sink brushing your teeth?"  
  
  
"Yep.;"  
  
  
Sydney had to grin. Vaughn chuckled.  
  
  
"It;'s simple," Vaughn said. "It;'s a simple little everyday thing." He shrugged.  
  
  
Sydney relented, "It;'s cute."  
  
  
"Yeah;?"  
  
  
Sydney's smile faded and she looked serious. "Yeah.;"  
  
  
Vaughn took Sydney's face in his hands and kissed her deeply. He slipped his tongue past her lips, stroked her tongue, slid his hands into her hair. Sydney kissed back, her hands on his chest. When they separated, Vaughn touched his forehead to Sydney's.  
  
  
His voice was gravelly, "I; love you so much, Sydney."  
  
  
Sydney didn't reply right away. He was looking directly into her eyes and she could see how sincere his words were. It sent shivers down her spine. She was going to be the one to have to break his heart, to tell him things wouldn't work, and she would never be able to tell him why.  
  
  
She knew that she loved him. She couldn't deny that. She just didn't love him the way he wanted her to—the way that she loved Sark. She touched the side of his face and he kissed her palm.  
  
  
"I; love you too, Vaughn."  
  
  
Vaughn kissed her again, then wrapped his arms around her and just held her close, his face in her hair. Sydney closed her eyes as she lay her head on Vaughn's shoulder.  
  
  
She found herself wondering how she could even do this, how she could even come up with a reason to end things with Vaughn when he believed things were going so well. She had had something of a plan that she thought was foolproof. Enveloped in Vaughn's embrace, she knew that her plan was far from it.  
  
  
Breaking up with Vaughn was going to be more difficult than she had ever imagined.  
  
  
  
  
Sydney and Vaughn arrived at Ops Center so Sydney could meet with Kendall. It didn't take her long to relay what had happened the night before regarding Allison Doren. Sydney was grateful that Kendall didn't pump her with questions that she would probably have never be able to answer because they would have pertained to how she had no idea that whom she thought was Francie actually wasn't Francie.  
  
  
When it was over, Kendall sent her off with a pat on the back and asked her if there was anything she needed.  
  
  
Without hesitation, she asked, "I; want to speak with Sark."  
  
  
Kendall sighed. "We;'ve already questioned Sark about his involvement. He was adamant in saying that he had absolutely nothing to do with what Allison Doren did."  
  
  
Sydney pursed her lips.  
  
  
"Look;, if you want to question him, go ahead. He passed a polygraph with flying colors, nothing indicated that he was involved and nothing indicated that he had deceived the test."  
  
  
"If; it's possible, I'd like the cameras to be turned off while I'm talking to him."  
  
  
Kendall glared. "Can; I ask why?"  
  
  
"I; don't believe Sark didn't have anything to do with what happened last night. I want to know what he knows, and if I have to literally beat it out of him, I will."  
  
  
Kendall smirked as did Sydney, then gestured to the door with his hand. Sydney exited first and Kendall followed, and they walked towards where the video monitors were controlled. Kendall switched off all the cameras in and surrounding the cell.  
  
  
"Have; fun, kiddo."  
  
  
Sydney chuckled for Kendall's benefit and walked towards the cell. The guard there opened the gates and Sydney walked through. Another guard opened the door to the cell and Sydney sent him on his way with a flick of her hand. Sydney sat down in a nearby chair in the cell and looked over at the cot.  
  
  
Sark was sound asleep, or at least he was pretending to be. Sydney just looked at him for a while, relieved that the cameras were off. She wanted nothing more than to curl up with him, feel his arms around her, his chin on her shoulder, and his warm breath against her ear.  
  
  
She sighed softly.  
  
  
Sark awoke then, groggy and tired, and sat up to look at Sydney. He leaned forward, his forearms resting on his legs. Sydney spoke first.  
  
  
"Cameras; are off."  
  
  
Sark raised an eyebrow. "Really;?"  
  
  
Sydney nodded.  
  
  
"Nice.;"  
  
  
Sydney grinned.  
  
  
Sark stood up and marveled, "So; we're all alone?"  
  
  
Sydney nodded again and stood up as well and walked over to Sark who placed his hands on her hips. "Think; of what we could do," she purred, starting to kiss his neck.  
  
  
"I; already am."  
  
  
Sydney smiled against Sark's skin and felt his hands dip under her blouse. "I; have to talk to you about something, though," she murmured in between nips at his pulse point.  
  
  
Sark rubbed a taut nipple through Sydney's bra with his thumb, eliciting a moan. "I;'m sure whatever it is can wait."  
  
  
Sydney pulled back, away from Sark. "It;'s actually a couple things."  
  
  
Sark frowned, but sat back down on the cot when Sydney returned to the chair in which she had been sitting. Sark leaned back, his arms behind his head. "Go; on, I'm listening."  
  
  
"I; love Vaughn."  
  
  
Sark narrowed his eyes. "What; did we talk about? Before all this? About not telling me—"  
  
  
"You; don't understand," Sydney said softly. "I; love Vaughn. What I'm saying is, I have no idea how I'm going to end things with him when I love him as much as I do."  
  
  
Sark was silent for a few moments, thinking about what Sydney had said. "What; are you saying? You're not going to break up with him?"  
  
  
"No;, no," Sydney said quickly, shaking her head. "I; just don't know how to do it without ripping out his heart and stomping all over it and not being able to tell him *why* I am doing this to him!"  
  
  
Sark got up and went over to Sydney, kneeling beside her and taking her hands in his. "I; know this is going to be difficult for you. I have faith in you, Sydney. I love you."  
  
  
"I; know," Sydney said quietly. "I; love you, too. I just wish that there was another way to do this."  
  
  
Sark looked up at her, his eyes full of understanding. "I; already know how you're going to react when I ask you this, but I still have to ask." He paused a moment, ran a hand through his curly hair. "Do; you still want us to be together?"  
  
  
Sydney gaped at him, disbelieving, and Sark just nodded knowingly. "How; can you even ask? You know I want us to be together more than anything. I just hate the idea of crushing Vaughn to do it."  
  
  
Sark nodded. "I; know you do."  
  
  
Sydney nodded as well, and they were both silent as they looked at one another, Sark still holding Sydney's hands.  
  
  
"There;'s something else," Sydney admitted.  
  
  
Sark cocked an eyebrow. "What;?"  
  
  
"I; told Kendall I wanted to talk to you about what happened last night, because I told him that I didn't believe that you had nothing to do with this. That's why the cameras are off—I told him I was going to do whatever I had to do to get you to talk."  
  
  
Sark released Sydney's hands and traced a path under Sydney's skirt on her inner thigh with his fingers. "Can; that wait a while?"  
  
  
Sydney just smiled and stood up. Sark stood up as well and Sydney pressed her lips to his as she guided him over to the cot. Sark sat down first and Sydney straddled him, claiming his mouth in a rough kiss as she started to pull down Sark's pants.  
  
  
Sark slid his hands under Sydney's blouse and let his fingertips crawl upwards to Sydney's breasts. He massaged them through her bra and twisted a nipple now and then.  
  
  
Sydney took Sark in her hands as she licked his neck. She stroked him slowly from root to tip as Sark groaned and lifted up her skirt. He delighted in the fact that Sydney was wearing a thong and gently squeezed her ass before pulling down the thin excuse for underwear.  
  
  
Sydney stood up and the thong slid down around her ankles. She bent down and took it off, laying it down beside Sark as she climbed back on top of him. She took his length in her hands again, this time paying special attention to the tip where small beads of moisture had gathered. With her finger, she wiped the beads off. She brought her finger to her mouth and licked it clean as Sark watched.  
  
  
She kissed him and moaned into his mouth when she felt his fingers penetrate her. She arched her spine, changing the angle a bit, and Sark removed his fingers. He licked his fingers just as Sydney had licked her own. Sydney melded her mouth to his as she moved above him and lowered herself down. Before she could begin her downward thrusts, Sark slid his hands under her skirt and grabbed her ass as he started to pound into her.  
  
  
Gasping, Sydney latched onto Sark's shoulders. His heavy breathing filled her ears and soon she had thread her fingers into Sark's hair, his head on her chest. Sydney bit her lip to keep from crying out when she moved slightly, allowing Sark to stimulate even greater depths.  
  
  
Before she could grasp what was happening, Sydney was flying over the edge, her contracting muscles sending her body into spasms as Sark worked to reach the same release she had. He did, and Sydney felt it deep inside as she pushed the hair off of Sark's damp forehead and kissed him.  
  
  
They stayed like that for a while, then Sydney stood up and they both dressed. Sydney met Sark's eyes and spoke softly, "Remember; what I said about—"  
  
  
"It; has to look convincing," Sark said, nodding. His gaze bore into hers and he smirked. "Go; ahead."  
  
  
Sydney punched him square in the nose. She hoped she hadn't broken it, but she knew she was too strong for her own good. She watched blood trickle out of Sark's nostrils which Sark caught with his hands underneath. She stepped forward, wanting to help, but Sark stepped back as if to tell her he was fine.  
  
  
Sark leaned his head back and managed to smile at Sydney. "You; really clocked me there, sweetheart."  
  
  
"Sorry.;" Sydney was digging through her pockets, looking for something she could give Sark to help manage the blood flow.  
  
  
Sark just grabbed a corner of the bed sheet and held it against his nose. He winced a bit and Sydney noticed. He assured her he was all right. "You; should get going."  
  
  
Sydney didn't budge. "Yeah.;"  
  
  
"I; love you, Sydney."  
  
  
"I; love you, too." She kissed him gently, then turned and left the cell.  
  
  
  
  
Vaughn drove himself and Sydney to the hospital to see Will afterwards. "I; saw you go down to where Sark is being held. Did you talk to him?"  
  
  
"Yeah;, I did."  
  
  
"Find; out anything?"  
  
  
"No;," she admitted, "but; I did punch him in the face."  
  
  
Vaughn laughed but Sydney didn't share his amusement. "Son; of a bitch had it coming."  
  
  
Sydney just gave him a weak nod. "Yeah;, I guess."  
  
  
Vaughn looked over at her and touched her arm. "You; okay?"  
  
  
Sydney smiled at him. "I;'m fine."  
  
  
Vaughn tilted his head at her, not quite believing her words. Sydney simply returned the gesture and Vaughn sighed. A thoughtful expression passed over Vaughn's features and he grabbed Sydney's hand.  
  
  
They were silent the rest of the way.  
  
  
**A/N:** In the A/N for 35, I promised a ton of stuff. I wasn't able to get to all of it because the chapter would have been hella long. So, I'm saving it. I can definitely promise a Will convo in the next chapter, though.  
  
Stuff about other fics: I'm working on 'Wild.' I have maybe 1/3 of a chapter done and it's been done since I finished chapter 7. I was going to throw it in with chapter 7 but decided against it. For 'F.P.,' I really need to finish that sucker. I'm reeaally close, and I just need to get it done already.  
  
Alias stuff: Are y'all pissed that we got gypped on a new ep tonight? I sure am. It's November sweeps for gawd's sake, and instead of a new ep, we get what must be the 947th award show of this year. Pfft.  
  
  
*hugs for my readers*  
  
~E


	37. Escape

**Thirty-Seven  
  
Escape  
  
  
  
**

They arrived at the hospital a short while later and Sydney was out of the car before Vaughn had fully pulled into a parking space. Vaughn parked the car and got out, following behind Sydney, a bit of a wounded expression on his face. He knew that Sydney wanted to see Will because of his close encounter with death, but Vaughn still felt a pang of resentment that Sydney couldn't even wait until he had gotten out himself—or at least parked his car.  
  
  
As much as Sydney wanted to see Will, and as much as she wanted and needed to tell Vaughn about Sark, she realized that she couldn't turn her back this easily.  
  
  
She stopped by the double doors to the entrance to the hospital and turned slightly to see Vaughn walking up to her. She smiled at him when he reached her, and he returned the gesture, feeling his cheeks begin to burn. Sydney sighed softly, turning until she faced Vaughn completely, and absently straightened the coat he was wearing.  
  
  
Vaughn looked at her, noting the small action as well as how sincere she seemed through it. "Hey;," he whispered, and she looked up. "We; need to go inside so you can see Will."  
  
  
"I; know," Sydney replied, staring far into Vaughn's eyes. She felt her hands beginning to shake at the expression in Vaughn's jade gems—he loved her deeply and would gladly trade his life for hers in a heartbeat.  
  
  
And Sydney was going to tear him apart.  
  
  
She felt tears prick her eyes and she blinked them back as she pulled Vaughn into a hug. She held him until she felt the urge to burst into tears subside, and she pulled back, smiling at him again as he chuckled and kissed her forehead.  
  
  
Sydney slipped her hand into Vaughn's and together they walked into the hospital.  
  
  
  
  
"Hey;," Sydney said as she sat down beside Will after she and Vaughn had been given the number of the room Will was in.  
  
  
"Hey;," Will replied, sitting up a bit and groaning a bit at the pain in his stomach.  
  
  
Sydney grabbed Will's hand and implored, "How; are you feeling?"  
  
  
"Better;," Will gruffed, as he shifted again in an attempt to get comfortable. He looked up and saw Vaughn standing by the door, and inferred that Vaughn deliberately staying back so that Will and Sydney could chat. "Vaughn.; Dude. Sit."  
  
  
Vaughn smiled sheepishly in response and sat down beside Sydney.  
  
  
"I; hate to ask," Sydney began, "but; how does it, I mean, what does it, you know—"  
  
  
"You; want to see it?" Will asked.  
  
  
"Is; that too weird?"  
  
  
Will laughed, "No;, Syd." He jerked his head a bit and said, "Come; here."  
  
  
Sydney got up and went around to the other side of the hospital bed. She lifted the blankets resting on his middle while Will pushed his shirt back and undressed the wound so Sydney could see. Her eyes went wide.  
  
  
"  
  
  
"Syd;, I'm fine."  
  
  
Sydney just shook her head sadly, thinking about the events leading up to discovering Allison. "I; just can't believe that I didn't see it before. I can't believe it took three months for me to finally *get* it. If I had figured it out sooner, I mean, none of this—"  
  
  
"Hey;," Will said softly, rewrapping the bandages and adjusting his shirt. He reached up to cup her cheek. "Syd;, the only thing that matters is that we got her. She can't hurt anyone anymore, and whatever her endgame was has been foiled."  
  
  
Sydney managed a nod and sighed. Will pulled her to him in a hug and kissed the top of her head.  
  
  
Vaughn watched in silence, barely able to suppress the wave of jealousy that rose up in him. He admonished himself for the feeling, as he knew that Will was Sydney's best friend and could very well have died if it had not been for Sydney coming to his rescue.  
  
  
Still, though, just as he had before, he felt unwanted, as if Sydney was taking him for granted and using that to put anything and everything above him.  
  
  
Her behavior worried him. He wanted to believe that Sydney was simply reacting emotionally to the sudden turn of events and the less than desirable circumstances, but he couldn't help but wonder if he and Sydney were growing apart.  
  
  
Vaughn looked at Will and Sydney again, finding them in the embrace still, both looking relieved to have each other. He nodded to himself, dropped his gaze, and stood up to silently pad out of the room.  
  
  
As he walked through the hall towards the exit doors, he found himself not making much of an effort to walk quickly, and he wasn't sure if it was because he was hoping Sydney would realize he had left and would come to retrieve him, or if it was because he didn't seem to care how quickly he got to his car or if Sydney came to get him.  
  
  
He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked through the automatic sliding doors. He took his keys out of his pocket and went to his car. He stood there a moment, debating, then let his eyes dart around the area as he dropped his keys and used his shoe to slide them under the front tire.  
  
  
Sydney would find the car empty and the keys on the ground, and would drive back to Vaughn's apartment, assuming that Vaughn had gone for a walk. Vaughn slid his hands back into his pockets and began shuffling his feet on the ground.  
  
  
He wandered aimlessly, turning a corner and shivering when the shadow the building cast over him wiped out the sun and the warmth from it. He stared down at the ground and kicked a rock, then looked up quickly to see where it would go. He cringed and looked back down when it careened towards an old lady and collided with one of her high heels. She jumped and cried out, and Vaughn pretended for about half a second that he was completely innocent before going over to her and apologizing.  
  
  
The woman looked Vaughn up and down and frowned disapprovingly at him. Vaughn nodded at the assessment, saying, "I; know. I'm sorry."  
  
  
She looked at him again, saw the sincerity in his eyes, and commented, "You; look like you've had a rough couple days."  
  
  
Vaughn's first instinct was to raise an eyebrow, but instead he just said, "You; have no idea."  
  
  
"Well;," the lady began, "why; don't you enlighten me?"  
  
  
Vaughn chuckled lightly and told her, "I;'m sure you wouldn't be interested."  
  
  
"Oh; come on kid," she countered, slapping his arm, "tell; me."  
  
  
Vaughn sighed and directed his gaze down the sidewalk to the corner, half-expecting Sydney to be rounding it any second and telling him he shouldn't have left. Finally, he relented to the lady's request.  
  
  
"It; started yesterday. I don't want to get into the details, but my girlfriend's best friend, um, he was badly injured, and almost died."  
  
  
The woman looked stunned and pressed a hand to her chest, exclaiming, "Oh; wow, that must have been horrible for her to have to deal with!"  
  
  
Vaughn's eyes flicked downward in embarrassment for his previous and now—he knew—totally unwarranted jealousy. He knew that the thought of Will dying would tear Sydney apart, seeing as she had already lost Francie. He realized that it wasn't out of line for Sydney to be shunning him. After all, she had come as close to death as Will had, and they had both escaped it, and as such, Sydney needed time to sort through her cluttered thoughts and put things into perspective so she could get back on track again.  
  
  
It all made sense now.  
  
  
"Hey;," the woman said, seeing Vaughn's forlorn expression and lifting his chin up, "don;'t let her get too involved with her own feelings. Let her know you're there for her, and don't let her shut you out. You can't give up and let her have it all her way. You love her. Show her that."  
  
  
Vaughn turned up one side of his mouth in an appreciative smile as a bit of color seeped into his cheeks. She was right—he would make certain Sydney knew that he was there for her and would be sure she didn't drown in her own self-pity.  
  
  
"Thanks;," he told her, honestly meaning it.  
  
  
The woman nodded and patted the side of Vaughn's face before walking away. Vaughn watched her go, then started walking in the direction of the hospital.  
  
  
  
  
Sydney pulled back from Will, brushed the hair off his forehead which she kissed gently, then backed away and looked over to where Vaughn had been sitting. Her brow wrinkled in confusion and she looked back at Will whose expression was the same as hers.  
  
  
"When; did he leave?" she asked.  
  
  
"I; don't know," Will replied. "I; didn't even hear him get up."  
  
  
"Damn; it," Sydney said under her breath. She was suddenly failing miserably at keeping up appearances. She loved Vaughn, but she loved Sark more, and she couldn't allow Vaughn to distrust her love for him until she came up with a plan to let him down easy. She looked at Will, opening her mouth slightly to form the words she wanted to say, but abruptly shut it again.  
  
  
"Syd;," Will said calmly, "go.;"  
  
  
Sydney bit her lip. "I;—"  
  
  
"Syd;," Will said again, "*go*."  
  
  
"Okay;," Sydney agreed, and hugged Will. When she pulled back, she said, "But;, we didn't get to talk all that much. I barely just got here"  
  
  
Will sighed heavily and rubbed one temple. "Look;, let me tell you what Vaughn's thinking right now. He's thinking that you're pushing him away and ignoring him to spend time with me."  
  
  
Sydney rolled her eyes. "No;, he doesn't. That's not Vaughn."  
  
  
Will gave her a look.  
  
  
Sydney frowned, saying, "Maybe; you're right. But you're obviously my number one priority right now, and I mean—my god, Will, you could have *died* last night! What am I supposed to do, just accept the fact that you're okay now and forget about what happened? I can't get over this in a day."  
  
  
"No; one's asking you to," Will told her.  
  
  
Sydney looked at Will for a few moments, then sighed and said, "Okay;, I'll get going."  
  
  
"Good.;"  
  
  
Sydney smiled a bit. "Love; you."  
  
  
"Love; you too. Now go."  
  
  
Sydney's smile widened and she left the room, heading down the hall towards the exit.  
  
  
  
  
Vaughn reached his car and picked up his keys under the tire where he had left them. He slipped them into his pocket and began walking towards the hospital doors when he saw Sydney coming out. He waited, unsure of what to do, and watched as Sydney drew closer and closer to him.  
  
  
He gave her a smile when she was within a few feet of him, intending to tell her that he had just come outside to get some fresh air. He was surprised when she didn't slow down and instead reached him and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him deeply. Vaughn was stunned at first, but relaxed after a moment, kissing back with equal intensity and wrapping his arms around her.  
  
  
Sydney pulled back first and touched her forehead to Vaughn's, the two of them breathing in unison. "I;'m sorry," she whispered, and considered elaborating, but decided against it, and simply repeated, "I;'m sorry."  
  
  
Vaughn nodded and whispered back, "It;'s okay. I understand."  
  
  
"Okay;," Sydney replied, nodding as well. She put both hands on either side of his face. "You; know I love you."  
  
  
"Yes;, I do," Vaughn grinned. "I; love you, too."  
  
  
Sydney returned the grin and murmured, "I; wouldn't have it any other way."  
  
  
They went to kiss again, but were rudely interrupted by the trilling of Sydney's cell phone. They both sighed at the same time and exchanged sad smiles as Sydney dug the phone out of her pocket and answered it. "Hello;?"  
  
  
On the other end, Kendall intoned, "Sydney;, I need to see you and Vaughn in my office right now."  
  
  
Confused, Sydney asked, "Why;? What's going on?"  
  
  
There was a pause on the line before Kendall informed her, "Sark; escaped."  
  
  
A torrent of emotions swept through Sydney, but she managed to ask the question most relevant to the situation, "How; the hell did that happen?"  
  
  
"I;'ll explain when you get here."  
  
  
"Why; can't you—"  
  
  
"Just; get your ass over here now." He hung up and Sydney fumed silently as she dropped her phone back into her pocket.  
  
  
"What; happened?" Vaughn asked.  
  
  
"Sark; escaped."  
  
  
Vaughn's forehead erupted with nine-hundred wrinkles. "What;? He escaped?"  
  
  
"Yes;," Sydney said.  
  
  
"How;?"  
  
  
"I; don't know, that's why Kendall wants us to go over there now." Sydney stared at Vaughn, seeing how distraught he looked and said, "I;'ll drive." Vaughn just nodded and handed over the keys. Sydney got in and unlocked Vaughn's door.  
  
  
She shoved the keys into the ignition and turned them, the satisfying sound of the engine roaring to life filling her ears. She pulled out of the parking space and was met by a loud horn honking behind her. Without looking back, she flipped the person off and started driving, tearing out of the parking lot at a dangerous speed.  
  
  
She couldn't understand how Sark escaped, but she could only assume that her mother had had something to do with it. She couldn't even imagine the elaborate scheme that had obviously been cooked up to break Sark out.  
  
  
She pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache coming on.  
  
  
_ Why wasn't I involved?_ she wondered. She realized that it could have been a spur of the moment idea that Sark had orchestrated himself, but it wasn't likely. She knew that her mother had to be involved somehow, and she would find out soon enough.  
  
  
**A/N:** Yay, I finally got a new chapter done. Okay, so anyways, it was mostly an SV chapter, but oh well. SV is tolerable in fics, IMHO, but not on the show. *shrugs*  
  
I'm hoping to wrap this up in a few more chapters, starting with an explanation of the break-out, and maybe a mission, and maybe a little sad stuff. I'm sort of on the fence about how to end this. I might have a happy ending with or without character deaths, or I'll have an unhappy ending with character deaths. I'm not really sure. There might also be an appearance by another character soon, which might factor in with some of this stuff.  
  
Anyways, I'm working on chapter 38, and I'd love to have it up this weekend, so I'll try my best to accomplish that.  
  
Sorry about the two-and-a-half-month wait. ;x  
  
{{{{{y'all}}}}}  
  
  
~E


	38. Unforeseen

**A/N:** Um. I suck. More on this after the (really, really long) chapter.  


**Thirty-Eight**

**Unforeseen**

Upon arriving at the Joint Task Force, Sydney and Vaughn all but sprinted through the building to find Kendall's briefing already in progress. The chairs were filled save for two, on opposite sides of the table. Sydney chose one and Vaughn chose the other, both mumbling apologies for their lateness and urging Kendall to catch them up.

"As I told you over the phone, Sark escaped," Kendall began, but Sydney and Vaughn could hardly hear him because of the bustle of activity just outside the room.

Sydney looked out the open door to see dozens of people flying from group to group, all discussing what appeared to be reasons for Sark's escape. She jerked her thumb in the direction of the hoopla and started to ask exactly what was going on.

Kendall responded with a wry smirk. "All of those people out there are like having a thousand more Marshalls."

Everyone looked at Marshall Flinkman who ducked down in his chair and blushed fiercely as he muttered, "At least I'm not out there"

Kendall gave Marshall a reassuring pat on the shoulder and once again addressed the group, which, Sydney noticed, strangely didn't include her father. She chewed on her lip, recalling her most recent conversation with her mother.

_"Have you talked to your father yet?"_

The question struck Sydney as odd, but she let it pass. "Not yet—why?"

"No reason."

Sydney stiffened. Was there something her mother hadn't told her? As far as Sydney knew, the only people who would know that The Telling had been used were herself, her mother, and Sark.

Was there another page floating around of which she hadn't been aware? Did her mother and father and perhaps even Sark know about it and not tell her? Did her father simply confront her mother after The Telling was used to go back and tell her that he had remembered what happened and they had worked together to figure out why?

"Agent Bristow, are you listening?"

Kendall's voice snapped Sydney out of her thoughts and nearly made her leap out of her chair. She composed herself and avoided Vaughn's gaze which she could feel bearing down on her and looked in Kendall's direction. "Yes."

"Good," Kendall said, nodding approvingly, "then repeat exactly what I just said."

Sydney pursed her lips and squirmed in her seat. She hadn't heard a thing Kendall had said because she was too busy putting her own spin on Sark's escape. She looked briefly at the people in the room then put her hand to her forehead and whispered, "I wasn't listening."

Kendall scoffed. "Figured as much." He turned to Vaughn. "How about you fill Agent Bristow in, Agent Vaughn?"

Vaughn sat up straight in his chair and cleared his throat. He started to stammer an excuse so he wouldn't have to explain, but Kendall just shook his head at him. Vaughn licked his lips. "It's my understanding that there was a power outage of some sort, and all secondary generators were apparently affected as well, and in the time it took for the power to return, Sark evidently escaped." He tossed an awkward glance at Sydney who was completely red. He looked down, feeling color seep into his own cheeks as well.

"Thanks for the recap," Kendall said, sarcasm in place. He turned to Sydney again and started to ask her a question but Sydney got there first, firing at him a question of her own.

"Do we have any leads?"

"Your mother and Sloane are certainly possibilities," Kendall replied.

"Who else?"

Kendall shrugged. "We're working on it."

Sydney sighed a little and tapped her fingers on the table. "Where's my father?"

"I couldn't get ahold of him," Kendall admitted, "and he wasn't here during the outage."

"Great," Sydney sighed. "He could probably really help us."

"I agree," Kendall said quietly. "Hopefully he'll have a good excuse for not being here."

"Yeah," Sydney murmured, then said almost under her breath, "'hopefully.'"

--- 

After the briefing was over, Sydney and Vaughn talked with several of the techs in the rotunda, hoping to determine the cause of the power outage. Unfortunately, the techs were all stumped, but deduced that the incident was well-planned and certainly well-executed.

And, if Sydney didn't know better, she would have said that some of the techs seemed rather impressed.

--- 

Vaughn drove Sydney back to his apartment after the questioning had ended and Vaughn crashed on the couch while Sydney fished in his refrigerator looking for something to drink. She settled on a bottle of water and went into the living room to see Vaughn stretched out on the couch taking up all three cushions.

"You think you could spare half a cushion?" she asked, grinning.

Vaughn grinned back and one-upped her, pulling himself to a sitting position and inviting her to park between his legs. She thanked him and sat down, leaning back against him as he wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her shoulder. Sydney took a drink of her water and Vaughn gently took the bottle out of her hand once she had brought it away from her lips and took a drink himself. He handed it back to her.

After a bit, Vaughn asked, "Do you think Sloane or your mother might have been involved with Sark's escape?"

"I don't want to talk about that right now," Sydney whispered, settling further back into Vaughn's chest.

"Okay," Vaughn agreed, kissing the back of her neck. He reached his hands up and began massaging Sydney's shoulders.

Sydney sighed softly, then nearly jumped out of her skin when Vaughn's phone rang. Vaughn groaned good-naturedly, and Sydney moved to allow him to stand up. Vaughn walked into the kitchen and picked up the phone while Sydney sat back down on the couch.

"We'll be right there," Sydney heard Vaughn say, and she immediately sprang from her seat and went to find out what was going on. When she entered the kitchen, Vaughn was hanging up the phone and turned to look at her, his brow furrowed in consternation.

Sydney crossed her arms over her chest and asked, "Who was it?"

Vaughn answered quietly, "Kendall."

"What did he want?"

"They found your mother and Sark," Vaughn said, his tone still quiet and almost conspiratorial.

Sydney was unnerved by Vaughn's answers and the way he was behaving. She knew there had to be something more than the CIA finding her mother and Sark. She bit her lip and a shiver went through her as she asked, "Vaughn, what's going on?"

Vaughn sighed heavily and looked down at his shoes, but didn't answer.

"Vaughn," Sydney said again, and took a step towards him. She tilted her head slightly to look into his downcast eyes.

"The intel that was acquired," Vaughn began, "leads us to believe that your father is with them."

Sydney looked taken aback, and she felt tears prick her eyelids. So this was why Irina had asked Sydney if she had talked to Jack. Sydney felt sick and she staggered backward, putting one hand to her stomach and one to her mouth.

Her father was with her mother and Sark because he obviously knew the same things that Sydney, Sark, and Irina knew.

_But how?_

Sydney backed out of the kitchen and managed to feel her way over to an arm of the couch and awkwardly took a seat upon it. Vaughn followed her every step of the way and kneeled down in front of her, his hands on her knees as he looked up at her. Sydney gazed down and met Vaughn's eyes, which were dark with his apparent sadness, confusion, and a bit of anger that Sydney deemed was for her benefit.

Still though, his soft eyes were comforting and she laid her hands over his.

Vaughn chewed on his lower lip for a moment before stammering, "Kendall, uh, Kendall s-said that uh, h-he said it wasn't clear if—if your father had been captured or if he was working with your mother."

Sydney nodded slowly, but she already knew that there was no way her father had been taken as a hostage by her mother and Sark. Her father must have found out what was going on and either went to confront her mother and Sark—or help them.

Sydney frowned, deep in thought, and remembered the briefing with Kendall earlier in the day. She couldn't help but wonder if there really _was_ another page that stated that her father would have the same privileges in relation to The Telling—or if there was something on the page she had brought back that she had somehow missed.

_Or was that the point?_

A light bulb went on in Sydney's head—Rambaldi's invisible ink. It was entirely possible that she, her mother, _and_ Sark could have all missed that tiny detail and perhaps her father had gone to her mother and informed her of that fact after The Telling had been activated.

Sydney sighed deeply and looked down at Vaughn whose eyes were focused on the carpet. Sydney bent forward slightly and kissed his forehead, then rested her own forehead against his. Vaughn responded by taking both of her hands in his and squeezing gently as he murmured how sorry he was for everything that had befallen her in the last few days. Sydney reassured him with another forehead kiss, then stood up. She looked at Vaughn.

"I heard you tell Kendall that we were going to be coming in. I'm assuming he wants to brief us."

Vaughn nodded. "He also wants to send us on a mission—apparently they have coordinates of the location of your father." Sydney started to freak and demanded how that was possible, so Vaughn quickly offered an explanation. "Your father was carrying a CIA-issue phone and they tracked the GPS."

Sydney pursed her lips and nodded, pleased with the explanation. "Let's get going," she said quietly, and she and Vaughn left the apartment.

--- 

"Think you can drive any slower?" Sydney snapped at Vaughn as she alternately loaded and unloaded the pistol in her lap.

Vaughn gritted his teeth and said, "Look, the GPS hasn't changed and we're only a few miles out. We'll get there when we get there."

"Fine," Sydney muttered, unloading her gun again.

"Where is this coming from?" Vaughn burst out suddenly. "You weren't acting like this during the briefing."

Sydney looked over at him earnestly. He was right. She was being unfairly rude when she had acted quite normal during Kendall's brief and the subsequent mission briefing. In all honesty, she wasn't sure where her attitude had come from, either. She figured a lot of it had to do with not knowing about Sark's escape and now not knowing about her father possibly being aware of the events before The Telling had been used to go back.

She sighed and said, "I'm sorry. I'm just tired of being the last to know on everything lately." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Sydney started praying that Vaughn wouldn't take them to heart.

But he did.

"Syd, what are you talking about?" Sydney started to reply with the best lie she could come up with, but Vaughn beat her to the punch. "Do you mean the last couple times that Kendall's spoken to me on the phone first? That's not exactly _my_ fault, Syd."

"I never said it was," Sydney shot back, heaving a sigh of relief that Vaughn had unknowingly bailed her out of what could have been an incredibly sticky situation.

"Syd," Vaughn began slowly after a few minutes of silence, "maybe we should take a break for a while." Sydney was too stunned to respond—Vaughn's suggestion had come out of nowhere—so Vaughn continued. "As I said earlier, I'm really sorry that so much has happened to you in the last few days and I'm sorry that everything is snowballing.

"I thought that after you were attacked, I could just hold you and comfort you and make everything better. But, with the way things have been going First, you push me away, then you let me in, and then you push me away again. I love you, Sydney, but I think we need some time apart to figure out where this relationship is going."

Sydney looked down at the loaded pistol in her hands and felt her stomach lurch. She hadn't expected Vaughn to drop this bomb on her. She hadn't expected _him_ to be break up with _her._ But it had happened, and Sydney wasn't sure what to make of it.

On the one hand, she didn't have to worry about being the one to crush Vaughn's heart when the time came to face reality and end one relationship to ensure the survival of another.

On the other hand, however, Sydney had to face the realization that Vaughn was smarter and stronger than she had thought. He had been smart enough to see that she was simultaneously growing close and distant, and strong enough to put their relationship on hold until Sydney either got a grip or lost touch altogether.

Sydney nodded to herself and then said the only thing she could think of that was fitting—

"Thank you."

--- 

Vaughn stopped the car about one hundred yards from the GPS coordinates where Jack was reportedly located.

"Small house," Vaughn offered, peering out the windshield. It was pitch black and Vaughn marveled at how dark it had gotten from the time the briefing ended until now. He glanced at Sydney, saw her looking out the windshield as well while she absently ran her left index finger along the shiny pistol she held in her right hand. "Syd?" he asked quietly, hoping to spark a conversation of sorts.

The rest of the short drive had been filled with discomfort for the both of them. Sydney assumed that Vaughn was questioning the decision he had made and was probably hoping that Sydney would ask him to reconsider. She didn't, though, because even though she loved him and would always love him, she couldn't lead him on any longer.

Sighing, she finally looked over at Vaughn. "Ready?" she asked, unbuckling her seat belt and unlocking her door.

"Ready," Vaughn said with a nod and caught Sydney's arm just as she was about to climb out. He kissed her before she could say anything, then left the car without a word, the sound of the door slamming shut punctuating his silence.

Sydney was momentarily stunned but recovered quickly, exiting the car and shutting the door. She followed Vaughn to the back door of the safehouse after quickly scanning the perimeter for threats. She and Vaughn listened for movement inside the building but heard nothing, so Vaughn kicked in the door. He stepped inside first, and looked around the dark house for a light switch. It wasn't needed, however, because as soon as Vaughn found the switch, he was hit and sent sprawling on the floor.

Sydney let out a shrill gasp when she saw the dim outline of Vaughn crumple to the ground. She found the switch and was looking the shooter in the now well-lit room when her eyes fell upon a figure stepping out of the shadows of a nearby dark room.

Sydney gasped, her breath catching in her throat when she tried to speak. "Oh my God," she managed to choke out, "Sloane."

Sloane stepped almost into the middle of the room and looked at Sydney with his eyes shining and his lips twisted into a grin that simultaneously sent cold shivers down Sydney's spine and white-hot flashes of anger and rage into her throat, stomach, and fingertips, which were still clinging tightly to her pistol.

In one quick movement, Sydney raised her weapon then yelped when Sloane—now brandishing two magnums—shot the gun out of her hand.

Undeterred, Sydney reached for the gun and felt a blinding pain in her shin that made her rethink her decision. She dropped to the floor, the pain in her leg forcing her to relinquish the privilege of standing upright.

Sloane walked towards her, looking down at her, half-frowning, half-smiling, and completely making Sydney want to strangle him until his beady rat-like eyes shot out of his skull and landed with a decided plop all the way across the room.

Sydney kept her eyes on him as he walked closer and closer to her.

This was the man who had used her as a guinea pig for The Telling.

This was the man who had planted the Di Regno heart in her, making her a ticking time bomb.

This was the man who ruined her life and the lives of the people she cared about on a regular basis.

And this was the last fucking straw.

Sydney set her jaw as her entire body began to quake with the pent-up unresolved anger, bitterness, and general disgust at the sight of Sloane's face.

Sloane had reached her and was beginning to kneel down when Sydney spat in his face. Invigorated, Sydney scoffed inwardly at the bullet in her leg, her lack of a weapon, and the fact that Sloane had two loaded Magnums at his disposal and could easily rid the world of Sydney Bristow with one pull of one trigger.

Sydney, though, couldn't be bothered to care.

She had lost so much already and still had much to lose, but she wasn't going to _gain_ a damn thing sitting on her ass. She rose up on her knees as Sloane used his sleeve to dab at his face.

Their eyes locked.

Except for Sydney's obvious physical disadvantage and only her two fists to defend her, they were on the same level. Both were on their knees, face to face, no disguises to hide behind nor friends to lend a helping hand.

Sydney stared a moment longer, hoping to catch Sloane off-guard—then she lunged. By pure luck, Sydney managed to wrap her fingers around Sloane's neck and squeeze while Sloane screamed in agony. Sloane dropped one magnum to attempt to loosen Sydney's grip on his throat. He gasped and choked while Sydney tried desperately to render Sloane unconscious, dead, or at least force him to keep his focus on breathing and not gathering enough strength to put a bullet in Sydney's head.

The veins started to bulge in Sloane's face, forehead, and neck and Sydney delighted in the fact that she was almost home-free. Her hands had begun to ache and were growing slippery with the effort. She drew a deep breath and tried to regain her concentration and strength, but Sloane managed to pry one of her hands loose.

He caught his breath and sat up fast to point his remaining magnum between Sydney's eyes.

The color drained from Sydney's face. She spotted the other magnum, but it was no use—she would be dead before she could grab it.

So she accepted her fate—it was all over. She gave Sloane her best smirk—and welcomed the end.

---   
**A/N Part 2:** Again, I suck. Basically, my interest in the show pretty much died with the last time I updated this story (coughJanuary30th2004cough). I mean, weepy and whiny Sydney plus Lark? WTF? So totally not the show I fell in love with, and it just kept getting worse from there. I had high hopes for S4, but that sucked too, with Jennifer Garner getting shoved to the side for the second season in a row and the whole year not even really picking up until it was half-over and even then it was too little, too late.

I have to admit, I'm loving S5 so far, which partly explains my renewed interest in this fic. That, and the fact that I've had this chapter written for about, um... a year, and I just never got around to posting it.

I hope to wrap this up in two or three more chapters, but I'm definitely reaching the end of the story and I pretty much know how I want to finish it.

Thank you to everyone who had read this fic at one point, because you guys are a big reason why I decided to finish this up.

To everyone who's reading Wild, I've got to figure out where I want to go with it and when I do, I'll probably post some more. I've got about half a chapter done (and it's been done for a while), but I lost the pages of a notebook that I had with part of that chapter in it. It wasn't much, but it did have some stuff in there written a certain way and I'm not sure I'll be able to remember how I had it.

Eh.

-E


	39. Culmination

**Thirty-Nine**

**Culmination**

Sydney awoke to a throbbing headache that nearly brought tears to her eyes when she tried to sit up. She looked around, surveying her surroundings. She discovered that she was still in the safehouse, but now she was in one of the bedrooms. She saw that the door was open and thought she heard footsteps coming towards her room. She started to get out of bed, ready to fight off whoever was coming, but her headache threatened to make her pass out, so she glanced about quickly, looking for something with which to defend herself and spotted a handgun on the bedside table.

She wrinkled her forehead in confusion, but grabbed it all the same, aiming it in the direction of the door, her hands weak and shaking, barely able to hold the weapon. She could barely contain her gasp of surprise when her father walked into the room holding a steaming mug of what Sydney presumed was tea or coffee.

"Dad?" she asked softly, her voice wavering and her tone expressing her confusion. "I don'tówhat are youówhat's going on?"

Jack sat down in the chair facing Sydney's bed and handed her the mug. Sydney blinked, wondering why she hadn't noticed the chair when she had checked out the rest of the room earlier. She shook her head slightly, shaking off the thought. She thanked her father as she took a sip. It was tea.

"How do you feel?"

Sydney gave him a look. Jack just raised his eyebrows slightly, still expecting a response. Sydney mumbled that she felt crappy. After a moment she asked, "Why didn't Sloane kill me?"

"I don't know," Jack answered truthfully.

"But it doesn't make any sense. He obviously wants me dead, I mean, why wouldn't he? I only get in the way of whatever Rambaldi bullshit he's after."

"He's a bastard," said Jack, "you and I both know that."

"Yeah, but I really can't figure this out. I mean, unlessÖ" she trailed off.

"Unless what?"

"Unless heÖ" Sydney shook her head and got a disgusted look on her face. "Unless he cares about me and couldn't bring himself to kill me."

Jack frowned but nodded slightly all the same. "The man is twisted, but he's not without a heart."

Sydney murmured her agreement and sipped some of her tea. Suddenly she started to freak out. "Where's Vaughn? Sloane shot him and then he came after me and I couldn'tó"

"He's at the hospital," Jack assured her. "Unfortunately, I couldn't go in with him because of the nature of my absence from the CIA. But he's safe."

Sydney thanked him, then said, "So, I'm going out on a limb here, but I'm trying to make sense of this from the information I have. I'm guessing that there was some of Rambaldi's trademark invisible ink on that page we found."

"Yes."

"And," Sydney went on, "it said that in addition to Mom, Sark, and I, you would be one of the people who would know about The Telling being reversed."

Jack nodded.

"Wow," Sydney breathed. Jack didn't respond, so Sydney said, "When did you guys discover this?"

"After The Telling had been reversed," Jack explained. "I had retained all of my memories prior to using the machine, and I couldn't figure out why, so I went to your mother. We looked over the page again, and used the liquid to reveal the rest of the page. That was when we found out."

"Where's Sark?"

"He's with your mother."

"Where?" Sydney questioned, her voice dangerously low.

"Sydney, I don't know. It was safer for me not to know. They'll both be here soon, however, then we'll have to leave."

"What about the CIA? Vaughn and I were sent on this mission because we had received intelligence that indicated that you were here. Not only that, the CIA doesn't know if you defected or if Mom and Sark were holding you hostage. We need to come clean. We need to tell them what's going on."

"Sydney, we can't do that. It won't work."

"Why not?"

"We need to capture Sloane and destroy The Telling. Once we do that, we'll have sufficient evidence for the CIA and then we can explain everything to them. Right now, your mother, Sark, and I are a trio of traitors, given how Sark was busted out of the agency along with the fact that I was with him and your mother."

Sydney nodded. "Do you have any idea where The Telling is?"

"I arrived here just as Sloane was preparing to leave. I planted a tracking device on his car. Hopefully he won't find it, and hopefully he's going straight to wherever he has the machine." Jack sighed. "If he doesn't, it won't do us any good to just capture him because he'll never give up the location of The Telling and someone else will just activate it and we'll be starting all over again. This time, though, we might not be so lucky as to where we all end up."

Sydney sipped her tea again then closed her eyes and murmured, "I just want this all to be over."

Jack said softly, "I know you do."

Just then, a door opened and Jack and Sydney leaped up immediately to go greet their visitors. Sydney couldn't help but smile when she saw Sark and ran to embrace him. Irina went to Jack and pulled him into Sydney's room so as to let Sydney and Sark have a moment.

"Dad told me everything," Sydney said. Sark nodded and Sydney continued, "Vaughn's in the hospital. I'll be able to see him after we catch Sloane." Sark looked down and Sydney felt a bit guilty for talking about Vaughn in front of him. "He broke up with me," Sydney said quietly, neglecting to give any details.

Sark sighed with relief and kissed Sydney.

"I love you," Sydney said.

"I love you, too," Sark replied, kissing her again.

Sydney wrapped her arms around Sark's neck and slid her hands into his hair. Sark placed his hands on Sydney's hips, then slowly wrapped his arms around her, bringing her closer to him and pressing her body to his.

They pulled back after a few long moments and looked at each other, both completely contentóat least for the moment.

Sark sighed softly and asked, "When do we leave to go after Sloane?"

* * *

A short while later, Sydney, Sark, Jack, and Irina were piled in a van and equipped with bullet-proof vests and assault rifles and were following the signal from the tracking device Jack had planted on Sloane's car. It was then that Sydney found out where her mother and Sark had beenóthey were getting the gear all four of them would need to go after Sloane. 

It wasn't long before they reached the place Sloane was supposed to be. The four were surprised to find that his hideout wasn't very far from the safehouse. Sydney found herself wondering if Sloane wanted to be caught. He had been so good at covering his tracks until now and Sydney wondered if Sloane simply wanted to bring everything to an end.

When they arrived at Sloane's hideoutóa three-story mansionóthey all silently climbed out of the van and went to the front door after noting that the car Sloane had left in was parked in the driveway and still had the tracking device attached.

"This is it," Sydney said. "You guys can go look for The Telling." She lowered her voice as she said, "Sloane is mine."

Jack, Irina, and Sark all nodded their agreement and after everyone wished each other luck, they dispersed. Jack, Irina, and Sark all went for various windows around the house. Sydney stayed at the front door and kicked it down easily. She walked in and looked around, then slung her assault rifle over her shoulder and pulled out a pistol. She checked various rooms, looking for Sloane. The house was seemingly empty and Sydney felt a shiver run down her spine. She wondered if Sloane was there at all, or if he had simply driven to the house only to escape in another car, one that didn't have a tracking device.

She headed upstairs to the top floor after deciding that if Sloane was anywhere, he was probably on the top floor. She looked around and saw that every door, save for the one leading to the master bedroom was closed. She walked over to the open door of the master bedroom and peered inside. She saw a figure sitting at a desk typing something on a laptop. Sydney leaned against the doorframe and scoffed.

"You found me," Sloane chirped, not turning around. "Well done."

"You didn't exactly give us a challenge," Sydney pointed out.

"That was the point," Sloane said. "I'm sure your parents and Sark have found The Telling already."

"Probably," Sydney said.

"It doesn't really matter," Sloane said, finally turning around to look at Sydney, "the machine doesn't work anymore."

"Bullshit."

Sloane stood up and put his hands in his pockets. "Would I really lie about that, Sydney?"

She considered him, but didn't reply.

"Why do you think I made it so easy for you to find me? There's no point anymore." He stopped suddenly, then continued, "Of course, I've yet to make that known to the people working for me."

"What do you mean?" Sydney asked. "Who are you working with?"

"Oh, just some people," Sloane said nonchalantly.

"Tell me who," Sydney demanded, beginning to get angry.

Sloane smiled. "People who headed up the various cells of the Alliance."

Sydney's jaw dropped. "Are you rebuilding the Alliance?"

"I was," Sloane said with a shrug. "Like I said, it doesn't matter now. Rambaldi's greatest invention no longer works. Why should I bother trying to finish rebuilding the Alliance?"

Sydney all but rolled her eyes at him. "The people you're working with won't care that The Telling doesn't work anymore. They'll continue rebuilding the Alliance with or without you, just so they can have that power again."

"Perhaps," Sloane allowed, "but I'm not helping anymore, so..." He trailed off and put his hands up. "Go ahead, Agent Bristow. Arrest me, shoot me. Your choice."

Sydney smirked at him. "You've got a gun on you. You'll shoot me if I try to arrest you."

Sloane just looked at her and replied simply, "That's why I said you could shoot me."

Sydney set her jaw. "Unless I have a specific reason to do so, you know I won't do that."

Sloane sighed a bit and then smiled. "I do."

"So," Sydney began, "why didn't you kill me? You used The Telling on me, you put a bomb in my stomach, yet when you had the perfect chance to finish me off, you didn't take it. You just ran away. Why?"

"As hard as it is to believe, Sydney, I do care about you."

Sydney was fuming. "You're sick."

Sloane gave her a noncommittal shrug. "You don't have to believe me."

Sydney looked down, thinking, and in that moment, she felt something hit her in the chest and knock her backwards. Sloane had shot her and was now heading towards the window. Sydney looked down at the hole in her shirt and saw the bullet embedded in the vest underneath it. She gritted her teeth and called to Sloane who was struggling to get the window open. "Sloane!"

He stopped trying to open the window and looked back at her, an odd expression spreading over his face. Sydney thought it almost looked like acceptance. He knew she would kill him now. He had given her every reason to do so and he knew it.

Sydney raised her gun and aimed carefully. "You should have killed me when you had the chance." She pulled the trigger and Sloane fell to the ground. He died instantly, as Sydney had shot him right between his eyes.

She walked over to him and knelt down to look into his glazed-over eyes. With a heavy sigh, she brought her hand to his eyelids and closed them. She stood up to see her parents and Sark standing in the doorway.

"We found The Telling," Irina said softly.

Her voice suddenly strained, Sydney said quietly, "I found Sloane."

* * *

Sydney stood in the doorway watching as her mother wrapped Sloane in a blanket and lifted him up with Sark's help. She stood aside so they could exit and then watched as her father put in a call to the CIA. They had gotten Sloane and could now tell the CIA what they had been doing and thusly absolve themselves of anything of which they had been accused.

Jack hung up the phone and glanced towards his daughter who was now looking at the floor. He walked over to her and she looked up at him.

"Sloane had people rebuilding the Alliance. They're still out there."

Jack nodded.

"We have to find them."

"We will," Jack said calmly.

Sydney looked into his eyes, a skeptical expression on her face.

"We will, sweetheart," Jack assured her, his voice soft and comforting. He smiled at her, a real smile.

Sydney smiled back and hugged her father tightly. She didn't let go until a CIA team had arrived to clean the house and collect Sloane's body and The Telling.

* * *

Jack, Irina, and Sark were all escorted back to the Joint Task Force to be debriefed, but Sydney was permitted to stay behind and visit Vaughn at the hospital.

Once she arrived at the hospital and inquired about Vaughn, she was led to his room. She stopped in the doorway and watched him sleep. He looked peaceful. For a moment, Sydney was afraid to go in. She was afraid that Vaughn might be having second thoughts about breaking up with her and she didn't know if she or Vaughn would be able to cope with what Sydney would inevitably have to say: she wasn't in love with him.

Swallowing her fears, Sydney entered the room and sat down in a chair next to Vaughn's bed. Upon hearing the chair squeak as Sydney sat down, Vaughn awoke and looked over at her.

"Hey."

Sydney smiled at him and replied, "Hey."

He reached his hand out to her. She reluctantly took it.

"Syd," he began, "I don't mean to lay this on you so suddenly, but I don't want you to, I don't know, feel obligated to be with me because I got shot."

Sydney looked startled, but she couldn't help but admire this new Vaughn. This Vaughn wasn't letting Sydney walk all over him and Sydney was thankful for it.

"I meant what I said," he continued, "we can't be together when you'reó"

She cut him off. "I know, Vaughn." She shook her head slightly. "We're in different places. I can't be who you need me to be. I'm sorry."

Vaughn smiled a little. "I'm sorry, too."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, holding hands, until Sydney stood up abruptly. At Vaughn's confused look, Sydney said, "I have to go back to the Joint Task Force. Sloane's dead and I have to make sure my parents and Sark are cleared of any involvement with Sloane rebuilding the Alliance."

Vaughn raised his eyebrows and wrinkled his forehead. "Sarkó?"

Sydney sighed softly and whispered, "Long story."

Vaughn smiled just a bit and replied, "Tell me sometime."

Sydney sighed again, a faint and somewhat sad smile on her lips and said, "'Bye Vaughn," and left the room.

* * *

When Sydney reached the Joint Task Force, she learned that Jack, Irina, and Sark had already been cleared of any and all charges and had explained the events that led up to locating The Telling and killing Sloane.

She also learned that her parents and Sark were in a briefing room with Kendall, all four of them waiting for her.

Sydney entered the briefing room slowly and took a seat next to Sark. She addressed Kendall immediately, "I heard that my parents and Sark have all been cleared. I'm relieved."

Kendall nodded in her general direction and said, "That's all well and good, but you all have work to do. Now that I have confirmation that the Alliance is being rebuilt, you four are going to be in charge of stopping it from being completely rebuilt and thusly will have to bring everyone in who's responsible."

Sydney, Jack, Irina, and Sark all nodded their agreement.

Kendall passed out folders to the four of them and explained that when Jack contacted him, he immediately started acquiring intel and had already put together their first mission.

He stood up. "Get to work."

* * *

A few months had passed and Sydney was standing at her desk packing up her things. She did so slowly, as if trying to avoid the inevitable, that she would never set foot in the Joint Task Force again.

She had already tendered her resignation. She had been waiting to give her notice, and it had taken months to clean up Sloane's mess. Sydney had found from Sloane that he had started to rebuild the Alliance, but she had no idea he had gotten so far. It took a while, longer than Sydney hoped it would, but she, along with her mother, father, and Sark had finally rendered the nearly rebuilt Alliance useless. With Sloane dead, it was easy, since everyone involved had decided to abandon the operation and were easily caught and put behind bars. That fact surprised Sydney, as she had fully expected everyone to keep going, since Sloane had told her he hadn't announced to everyone that he was quitting the operation.

In bringing down the new Alliance, Sydney found herself with less missions to go on and less to do overall, leaving her time to pursue other interests. She was finally able to put her Master's degree to good use, as she had gotten a job teaching American Literature at a high school in New York. The job would begin in the fall. She considered taking one of the local offers she'd been given, but decided against it, ultimately needing to get away from the area.

Will was going to be coming to New York as well and Sydney was grateful. He too, had resigned from the CIA and had gone back to journalism, landing a job as a staff writer for _The New York Times_, a fact about which he was completely ecstatic.

As she packed up the last few items on her desk, she looked around at all of the people in the rotunda, and took in all of the sights and sounds she would never see again. She smiled faintly, blinking away the tears that had formed in her eyes.

She looked down again, staring absentmindedly at the box she had just filled. It was over. This phase in her life was finally over and she could finally move on and have the normal life she had always wanted. She was happy, but at the same time she felt empty. She wondered if resigning was the right thing to do, then shook her head, deciding that she was just nervous about leaving something that had been a part of her life for so long.

She sighed and picked up the box, glancing one last time at her desk and preparing to head out. She was abruptly stopped by Vaughn who had just come into view.

She smiled broadly at him. It was the first time she had seen him since visiting him at the hospital after Sloane had shot him. When he came back to the CIA, he immediately went on all the missions he could, none of them involving Sydney.

"Hi," she said softly, tears brimming in her eyes again.

"Hi," he said, returning her smile. "I saw a plane outside. Yours?"

"Dad's," she answered with a grin. "I'm leaving for New York in a few minutes."

"Ah," he said knowingly. At her look of confusion, he clarified, "Will told me about your new job."

Sydney looked a bit sheepish. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but you were away so much that I could never get in touch."

Vaughn waved a hand dismissively. "It's okay, Syd." He grinned at her. "I'm happy for you."

"Thanks," she said, blushing a bit.

They both looked down at their shoes, trying to think of what to say next. Vaughn spoke first. "I'm going to miss you."

Sydney looked up at him, smiling slightly, and whispered, "Me too."

Vaughn smiled as well and then said suddenly, "I met someone."

"Yeah?" Sydney asked, a feeling of genuine happiness for Vaughn spreading through her.

Vaughn returned the grin and explained, "I was on a reconnaissance mission in France. I'd completed the mission and I'd had some time left before my flight, so I went to this baró"

Sydney was smiling so much that Vaughn stopped talking to ask why. Sydney looked sheepish again. "It's just that I can tell this is going to be a good story." She motioned for him to continue and he did, telling her almost word for word the tale he had told her when he had come to take her home from Hong Kong, on that night that had been a result of The Telling. Sydney had never guessed that something The Telling had doneóand had been reversed from going back to the night Sydney fought Allison Dorenócould actually happen without the machine.

When Vaughn finished his story, Sydney told him she was happy for him and then said what she had been dreading since she turned away from her desk with all of her belongings: "I have to go."

Vaughn walked up to her, took the box she was holding and set it down on the ground so that he could hug her one last time. Sydney surprised herself by not crying, though she did shed a few tears once they had let go of one another.

"You never did tell me that story," Vaughn told her, a broad smile crossing his face.

Sydney smiled as well, looking down at the floor. After a moment, she turned serious. "I don't know if I can."

Vaughn nodded and both were silent for a few moments.

"You'd better get going," Vaughn said finally, avoiding her eyes.

"Yeah," Sydney agreed, avoiding his as well.

After a beat, Sydney picked up her box and looked at Vaughn. She kissed his cheek tenderly. "'Bye."

"'Bye."

She walked past him and Vaughn turned to watch her go. He blinked and a tear fell onto his cheek as he watched Sydney Bristow walk out of his life.

* * *

Sydney reached her father's plane and climbed aboard. As expected, her mother and father were waiting for her as soon as she got on.

Irina and Sark had been granted clemency after they, Jack, and Sydney had shut down the Alliance operation and arrested everyone involved. Irina and Sark had proved their worth and were rewarded for their help.

Jack had decided to retire and he and Irina were going to be spending the rest of their days in an undisclosed location.

Sydney smiled at her parents, grateful that through everything, they had managed to stay together and ultimately rebuild their relationship so that it was now stronger than it had ever been.

"So where are you guys going exactly?" she asked for what was possibly the millionth time.

Jack gave her a small smile. Sydney knew she couldn't know where they would be in case there were still people who wanted Irina Derevko dead. After all, Irina was still considered dangerous, just not by the CIA.

"We'll call you when it's safe to visit," Jack told her.

"Fair enough," Sydney replied, a smile playing on her lips.

"We figured you and Sark would want the plane for a while," Irina said, "so we'll be dropped off first. Our pilots will return the plane to us once you two land in New York, whenever that may be." She gave her daughter a knowing smile.

"Thanks," Sydney said gratefully. "I love you guys." With that, she wrapped her arms around both of her parents, hugging them tightly. She pulled back and smiled through her tears, then walked to the back of the plane to find Sark.

"Hey," she said when she found him, setting her box down on a chair.

Sark was lounging on a couch a few feet away from Sydney. He stood up. "In case you're wondering where all of belongings are, your father had some people pack everything from your apartment and put it all in the cargo bay."

Sydney chuckled. "That was what I was going to say next." She walked over to him and gave him a kiss. "Let's try this again," she said, unable to hide her grin. "Hey," she said significantly.

"Hello," Sark replied, smiling and kissing her. "I heard you talking to your parents."

"And?"

"We can go anywhere."

Sydney nodded and took a seat on the couch. Sark sat down beside her and gave her a look.

"You've gotó" he looked at his watch for the date, "ótwo weeks until the semester starts."

"Uh huh," Sydney said, a smile spreading across her features as she got Sark's gist.

Sark turned to look Sydney in the eye. "Sydney Bristow," he began, smirking sweetly at her, "where do you want to go?"

FIN

**A/N:** First off, thanks to **phi4858** and **qblisa** for the reviews that were ultimately the kick in the ass I needed to finish this up. Iíd had a bunch of ideas Iíd been mulling over, most of which would have made the story go a few more chapters, but I realized that I had gotten to the point where I could just wrap it up in one last chapter. (This was actually two shorter chapters, but I went ahead and combined them because they worked better that way. I also added more to the combined chapter to give it a little more meat.)

Also, thanks to everyone whoís ever read and reviewed this story. It means a great deal to me to know that people were really enjoying it.

Just for fun, hereís the rest of the A/N as I wrote it on May 1st, before I saw the finale (and before Iíd added more to this last chapter):

_I was thinking about killing off Vaughn, but ultimately decided to keep him alive, mainly because the bastard grew on me. Dammit. Speaking of which, Iíve been loving the SV on Alias this season. ducks bricks Honestly, I stopped ëshipping Sarkney on the show sometime around S3. SV kinda grew on me during S4 and then continued into S5, not that I wasnít completely overjoyed when Vaughn was ìkilled.î But really, S5 has been great, all aspects of it have been fantastic. I canít wait to see how it ends._

_Speaking of the show, how awesome ìThereís Only One Sydney Bristowî? Now THAT is how you do a 100th episode. Also, I canít believe how much I missed Will. I love him._

**_In regards to the finale, if the writers kill Jack or Irina, I will not be happy at all. They better not touch those two. I want my SpyFam intact when the show goes off the air._**

So much for that. I donít even really know what to say about the finale except that I hated pretty much all of it. Yes, I was happy that SV got their happy ending because I really wanted it, but Jack dying and Sloane still being alive is just ridiculous. That bastard is SO going to get his ass rescued by someone, which means Jackís death was in vain. Plus, Sydney, who always spoke of wanting a normal life, is still freaking spying and, judging by her line about Isabelle not having unpacked, sheís constantly moving, probably because she isnít safe. I really, really hated that.

Oh yeah, and Irina went evil for some reason. And then she died. Whatever.

Thank you writers, for royally screwing up my beloved SpyFam by killing Jack and making Irina evil (WTF?) and killing her off.

Ugh. Hate.

Anyway, back to the fic, I had a lot of fun writing this. Itís definitely my favorite story and is certainly one Iíll be extremely proud of for a long time to come.

Iím going to try and finish up _Wild_. I donít know when Iíll have a new chapter up, but Iíll try and get back into it and write some more of it.


End file.
